From the Fox Garden
by Tiny Octopus
Summary: There is a reason why there are so few kitsune today. When an ancient monster reappears, Kurama must face the aftermath of Spirit World's greatest atrocities and put an end to the legacy of fear left behind by his people. Post-series.
1. That Which Changes Shape

**This is greatly inspired by and written in the spirit of Japanese folktales. I'll be using a blend of terminology from the dub but also the proper names of creatures from Japanese folklore (fox and kitsune will be used more or less interchangeably). That being said, I'm playing pretty hard and fast with the folklore to make it fit into YYH canon. You don't have to actually know anything about it, but it'll be extra fun if you do.**

 **Warnings for eventual blood, violence, and non-explicit sexual content.**

 **This story is set after the end of the anime.**

* * *

When Sumire thought of true evil, of deceit hidden behind practiced smiles and gentle words or a beautiful face hiding an ugly soul, she thought of kitsune.

She had been young, just a kitten that couldn't yet walk on its hind legs let alone hold a stable human form, when she first saw one, tall and proud, silver and sleek. She had been playing in the forest with her friend, a cat apparition from another village, when a fox lunged out of the forest underbrush, took her friend by the throat, and vanished back from whence it came, the injured apparition's cries ringing out once, twice, and then no more. The memory stayed with her and only reinforced what she knew all along; kitsune were evil. They did not hunt for food but for sport, and they would stalk their prey for months or even years, lurking in the shadows or hiding in plain sight.

The golden fox who stole the heart of an emperor long ago, Tamamo-no-Mae, lived to destroy others, to bend them to her will and instill love in their hearts before she burned their villages, razed their crops and ate their children, all the while hiding behind the face of a beautiful human woman; none were cleverer or crueler. Hers was a name that was whispered even by apparitions, a tale passed from older generations to younger as a cautionary tale of how far one could fall.

It was said that Tamamo-no-Mae was so filled with hate that as she died her body turned to stone, and from this stone came a miasma so terrible that grass split and wilted, trees rotted and recoiled, and all who came within reach fell dead where they stood. It took the day-and-night chanting of sutras from an itinerant monk to put an end to the Killing Stone, as it had come to be called, by pleading with the spirit that haunted the stone until it agreed to move on.

He was foolish, Sumire had always thought as a young kitten, for believing that the kitsune's spirit moved on simply because he asked it to.

And in the end, she was right; something that evil does not die so easily.

Tamamo-no-Mae arrived on a cold breeze, moonlight glinting off of her golden fur, and she looked like a ghost as she stood at the entrance of Two-Tails Village, her form flickering in the dark. But when she did not disappear, a wicked smile appearing on her maw, the residents of Two-Tails Village froze in fear and realized that she was no mirage.

The beast that even the apparitions feared had returned.

Tamamo-no-Mae's fur receded as she stood up on her hind legs and began to change, a silk kimono embroidered with clouds appearing to cover her pale skin, the only human form in a circle of upright-walking cats in clothes. She asked the apparitions of Two-Tails Village, with words that dripped with honeyed poison, if they would be so kind as to help her. The cats asked Tamamo-no-Mae in trembling voices what she wanted.

"Have you grown complacent in your self-imposed exile?" the trickster asked, "Have you ceased to dream of taking back the lands that were stolen from you? Has your grudge against Spirit World truly faded with time?" When Tamamo-no-Mae smiled, her pointed teeth showed. "We apparitions of the old world deserve more than the dark corners of this forsaken land. If you help me, I will help you, and we will return to power."

The villagers were restless, murmuring amongst themselves with twitching ears and swishing tails.

Their history with Spirit World's king was a long and bitter one. The cats saw promises broken and armies decimated, they saw their old way of life changing and they refused to bow, so they fled to the lands where Spirit World's tyrant could not reach, villages and provinces that the rest of Demon World came to forget. And this was how they lived for thousands of years, clinging to the old ways and refusing to venture beyond the line they had drawn in the sand.

Tamamo-no-Mae was a fox, and they all knew to be wary of foxes, but she was a creature from their own time who was capable of restoring the old ways, of dethroning the power-hungry king who had ruled for far too long; some of the villagers saw things in such a way.

Others, Sumire's family among them, argued against them. Tamamo-no-Mae was the very monster they told their children about to warn them of the trickery of spirit foxes, an abomination even among her own kind. Surely, she would turn on them as soon as they were of no more use to her; she was not to be trusted.

A rift opened between the villagers as they took sides, angered hissing and spitting, but before any one of them could raise a claw, the elder came forward. An old bakeneko with graying fur and a scar over one of his clouded eyes, garbed in a faded blue hapi coat, shuffled forward, eyeing Tamamo-no-Mae with suspicion.

"Tamamo-no-Mae," he spoke, "You say you come seeking help, but truly, you are seeking bodies to throw in front of you."

The kitsune's delicate lips curled into a scowl, no longer able to keep up the pretense of a pleasant conversation. "I seek equals who dare to dream beyond this pitiful excuse for a village," she said, "I seek those who remember the days when this dark corner was not all that belonged to us, we apparitions of the old world. Your people hear what I'm saying and understand what I'm seeking. Why don't you ask them what they think?"

There were a few words of protest but more shouts that drowned them out as the villagers began to quarrel. The elder paid them no mind. "I am no fool," he said, "You are a fox, and you will be our downfall if you are allowed to do as you please. We will not help you."

Tamamo-no-Mae's nine tails swayed behind her like the heads of serpents and her eyes glowed like will-o-wisps. With one swift movement of her hand, much too quickly for most of the villagers to see, she dug her claw into the elder's face and wrenched free his good eye. The old nekomata fell to his knees with a yowl of pain, gasping and pressing his hands to the wound. Tamamo-no-Mae held up his eye, squeezed it between her fingers as though it were a toy, and then pressed it to her mouth and made a show of taking a bite, blood spurting around her teeth.

She looked upon the trembling apparitions of Two-Tails Village, her perfect smile stained crimson, and she asked, " _How about now?"_

Whether or not they had sided with the kitsune before, the villagers were all of one mind again; she would kill them if they did not cooperate.

They told her that Spirit World would not simply stand by and allow her to do as she wished, and eventually, she would find opposition. Tamamo-no-Mae was unfazed. "I know of Spirit World and its tricks," she scoffed, "They employ Spirit Detectives to keep watch over their precious worlds. Such a post has always been held by a human, but we are in strange times, for there are apparitions safeguarding the Living World, as well." Her smile widened. "So they must be the first to fall."

Beneath the light of a waning moon curtained by dark clouds, Tamamo-no-Mae called upon the villagers to line up the strongest among them. Sumire did not want to go, but her family insisted she do so. "She'll know if you disobey, Sumire," her mother hissed, "She'll sense the strength within you, and she'll kill you for your disobedience, and then the rest of us." With pleading eyes, she begged, "For the good of the village, you must go."

And so Sumire went with the others, lining up in the center of Two-Tails Village under the kitsune's cold, appraising eyes, and she winced when the beast stopped before her. "You," Tamamo-no-Mae said, golden eyes shining, "What is your name?"

"My name is Sumire," she whispered.

Tamamo-no-Mae seemed pleased, her smile growing wider. "You have the most potential of those here," she said, "I can feel it." Slowly, she reached out, claws revealed beneath a brocade sleeve, and rested her hands on Sumire's bony, fur-covered shoulders. "I want you to to go to the Living World," she instructed, "I want you to find the one called Kurama." She leaned in close to Sumire, her breath making the nekomata's ears twitch anxiously. "I want you to earn his trust," she said, "And then I want you to take his life."

Kitsune, Sumire knew long ago, before Tamamo-no-Mae reappeared after centuries of simmering in her rage and deepening her grudge, were made of evil. She did not want to kill, nor did she want to help a monster reign over all three worlds as she surely intended to do, but she knew she had no choice. Even if she was the strongest in her village, she was no match for a kitsune, and certainly not one as old and hateful as Tamamo-no-Mae.

The kitsune stopped to speak to several others, a bakeneko on the verge of tears and a grizzled nekomata whose knees buckled under her gaze, assigning them all to various tasks, and then dismissed all of the assembled, except for Sumire. Tamamo-no-Mae, tails snaking out from beneath her kimono, smiled at her. "Do you hold hatred for me?" she asked.

Sumire shook her head.

"I think you do," the kitsune said, "But you shouldn't. Do you know why?" Sumire did not answer. "Because I'm going to do something wonderful. I'm going to take all three worlds and change them, so that we'll live as we did long ago before Spirit World's king came. You're young, so perhaps you weren't born in those days, but we lived freely once, going where we pleased and doing whatever we wished. Have you ever been to the Living World, Sumire?"

Sumire shook her head, no, she had never been.

"It's wonderful," Tamamo-no-Mae said, "I miss it even now. I love humans; they have a sense of adventure, and they dream such big dreams, no matter how short their lives. Apparitions are so different. So stagnant." If Sumire had never heard the stories, she might have almost believed the kitsune and thought that she really was fond of humans; she truly sounded enamored. "When my dreams have been realized, Sumire, I will show you what I mean."

Sumire nodded, yes, as politely as she could, wanting nothing more than to get far away from her.

"You must understand," Tamamo-no-Mae went on, "This man, Kurama, is not an innocent man. He's an apparition like us, but he wears the skin of a human and he lives among them." She smiled. "A kitsune, of course. That's why you must be cautious when you find him. We foxes love nothing more than to deceive, and Kurama will deceive you if you give him the chance."

Sumire's heart sank, her fear even greater than before, and no longer of Tamamo-no-Mae, but of the creature she was being sent to kill. It made sense, of course; kitsune loved to hide among those they hunted. But she did not expect Tamamo-no-Mae to send her after one of her own kind.

He would kill her. He would kill her and probably eat her, and she wouldn't have to worry about Tamamo-no-Mae anymore because she would be dead at the hands of a different fox. Sumire shivered, tears welling up within her eyes. Tamamo-no-Mae began to laugh. "Don't cry, little cat," she said, kneeling to converse with Sumire at eye level, "You will not fall for his tricks because I have warned you of them. No, _you_ will deceive _him_. Just like a kitsune." Her smile lessened and she looked away, thoughtful. "I have heard that there is no longer a barrier separating this world from the Living World, but I do not doubt that they watch over who passes through."

Sumire stood frozen when Tamamo-no-Mae turned to her again, clutching her tightly by the forearms, and though she did not move, Sumire felt the monster _pull._ She felt herself growing weaker as her energy seeped out of her, seemingly tugged free, and she felt her body shrinking, checkered yukata becoming far too large until it was a tall cage of fabric. When she had shrunk down into the form of an ordinary cat, Tamamo-no-Mae lifted her by her sides and held her up to inspect.

"Yes," she said with a pleased smile, "Like this, you will slip under their noses. Your power will return slowly, and in that time, you will easily blend in among humans."

Tamamo-no-Mae then set her down on the ground and stroked the fur beneath her chin. "Now run along, little cat," she said, standing to her full height and towering above her, "And please hurry. It's been such a long time since I've had anything good to eat. The essence of an old and powerful apparition is best, but," she chuckled, eyes glittering in the dark, "If you take too long, your family will suffice."

Sumire scurried away, forked tail between her legs, and ran faster than she ever had before.

What misfortune, she lamented, that Tamamo-no-Mae should come to Two-Tails Village of all the villages in the world, though perhaps it made sense. She could only imagine what dark places the fox had been hiding in before she came to the village. Tamamo-no-Mae had chosen wisely, staying beyond where Spirit World would immediately learn of her return.

Not that it mattered, Sumire knew. She could not rely on Spirit World—it had wronged her people before, and she did not trust it to do any different now. She had only herself to rely upon, only the ways of ancient Demon World that existed where Spirit World's influence could not spread. Maybe, she began to think, when she finally found Kurama, she would partake in the oldest of her people's rituals and devour him, body and soul. Maybe the essence of a kitsune would be enough to save her village and destroy Tamamo-no-Mae once and for all.

Maybe, just maybe, she could do so carefully, avoid fighting him by feigning weakness, perhaps in the skin of the humans he so loved to hide among. Slowly, her legs stopped shaking and she ran through the night gracefully. Slowly, her thoughts stopped racing and her eyes narrowed in resolve. She could not be afraid. The essence of a kitsune—of Kurama—would give her the power she needed.

And then, she would return, and she would devour Tamamo-no-Mae, as well.


	2. The Two-Tailed Scheme

The moment the name "Tamamo-no-Mae" left Koenma's lips, Kurama went rigid.

He'd had reason enough to worry when the young ruler of Spirit World contacted him out of the blue, claiming he had something of the utmost importance to discuss with the former detectives, and arranged for them to meet at a cafe in town.

"Tamamo-no-Mae?" Kurama echoed, and made a conscious effort to hide the worry from his voice, "Wasn't she exorcised from the Killing Stone long ago?"

"That's what we thought," Koenma said, shaking his head, "In hindsight, we should've known better, but when she didn't appear again for over a thousand years, it seemed safe to assume she was gone for good."

"Gone for good," Hiei scoffed, "I've yet to hear of a kitsune that simply let death take it."

Kurama wondered how exactly Koenma had managed to convince Hiei to return to the Living World, though he imagined patrolling the borders for lost humans must have become tedious long ago.

"Am I missing something here?" Yusuke asked, glancing between them, "What's a 'Tamamo-no-Mae?'"

"You haven't heard that story, Urameshi?" Kuwabara sneered, "Even _I've_ heard it."

Before Yusuke could begin arguing, Kurama cut in, "Tamamo-no-Mae is a very old, very powerful apparition—a kitsune, to be precise, like myself. In Japan, she was first documented in the twelfth century, during the reign of Emperor Konoe."

He saw from the way Yusuke's eyes were glazing over that the boy was quickly losing interest and frowned, skipping ahead to what he hoped would be more engaging. "She took the form of a human and attempted to kill the retired emperor but was unmasked at the last moment. She was pursued by an army and managed to kill hundreds of soldiers and samurai, but was finally slain by an archer. Her body became the Killing Stone, which exuded an unnatural miasma that killed everything that came near it, and she haunted this stone until a passing monk exorcised her spirit from it." He paused. "Or so it was believed."

"Of course, Tamamo-no-Mae existed long before that," Konema said solemnly, "Her crimes date back to human prehistory and the dark ages of Demon World. Spiritual cannibalism was common practice in those days; I believe that's how she became so powerful."

Yusuke raised a brow. "What, like demons eating other demons?"

"It's not practiced by civilized society," Hiei scoffed, "And it's purely superstition; only bottom-feeding apparitions living in the dark corners of Demon World still believe in that kind of thing, holding onto the hope that they can become stronger by eating those weaker than themselves."

"It's not entirely superstition," Kurama said, words trailing off when all eyes fell on him. Koenma looked perturbed and Kuwabara looked frightened, but Hiei and Yusuke simply looked curious. "Hiei is correct; it's an outdated practice," he added, "Much of civilized Demon World does not participate in such acts, and it was even outlawed by each of the three kings during their reign, a decree which Enki has chosen to uphold. That being said, there are doubtlessly still denizens of the lower spheres of Demon World and smaller villages who might still do it, and we should not be so quick as to dismiss spiritual cannibalism as nothing more than wishful thinking."

"You think it really makes one stronger?" Hiei asked.

Kurama didn't quite meet his eyes. "It isn't as simple as devouring another demon," he said, "The process must begin while the victim is still alive or immediately after death, and an incantation must be recited to trap the prey's essence within the body. It requires most of the corpse to be consumed. Of course, only a powerful demon is worth eating, but successfully carrying out this kind of ritual with someone significantly stronger is no easy task."

Koenma glanced at him warily. "It sounds as though you're speaking from experience."

Kurama chose not to answer.

"Regardless," he went on uneasily, keeping one eye on Kurama, "I received reports several days ago that Tamamo-no-Mae was spotted in the recesses of the first sphere of Demon World, in land where even Enki's control is limited and my father never could gain a foothold. I foolishly believed it to be a rumor, but I still sent a few oni to investigate." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "They were sent back to me, in pieces, missing their livers. Presumably, she wanted to tell me that they weren't worth completely devouring."

The room fell silent and seemed to get colder.

"She's making demands," Koenma continued, "none of which I've fulfilled, and I can only imagine her patience is running thin. Strange things have been happening at the edge of Spirit World—thefts and disappearances that I'd be slow to connect if they weren't all happening so close together. Today, I was contacted by Genkai, and she's told me that there's been an incident in the Living World now; a young woman came to her for help, claiming she and her sister were attacked by something in the mountains. Genkai said that something about this is just...odd. I can't overlook it as coincidence. You'll need to investigate."

Yusuke leaned back in his chair, frowning at Koenma. "You know what I'm gonna say, right?" he asked.

"I'm well aware that you're no longer detectives," Koenma nodded, expression grave, "That does not change the fact that Tamamo-no-Mae is a threat that outranks anything you've ever fought before, and frankly, I don't know anyone else who even stands a chance against her."

No one spoke for a while. Kuwabara glanced across the table without making eye contact with anyone, looking like he'd rather not say anything. Hiei sat with his arms crossed over his chest, stewing silently at the thought of being ordered around by Spirit World yet again. Kurama watched Yusuke's expression closely; he knew, by now, that the rest of them were doomed to fall in line with the former detective and whatever ridiculous thoughts went through his head. It was simply how they functioned as a group, with Yusuke in the lead.

"Well," Yusuke said at last, "I guess you could consider this a personal favor, rather than a spirit detective mission."

Koenma's shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Our first step should be to talk to this girl, then, right?" Yusuke reasoned, "If Tama-what's-her-face is planning to make a move on the Living World, we'd better check out the first incident here."

"Precisely." Koenma inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. "I can't stress enough that there is no room for failure. Tamamo-no-Mae is a true monster, the sort that other apparitions tell their children about to keep them in line."

"After everything we've been through," Yusuke said, "I really don't think one more monster is going to be a problem." He looked to the others as though searching for agreement, but only Kuwabara jumped up to proclaim how easy this case would be compared to the fight against Sensui, or the Dark Tournament.

It was true, Kurama had to admit, they'd each seen plenty in their short lives. But Kurama had seen much more, and he knew better than to be overconfident.

Koenma left not long after giving them the details of where to find their contact, and though Yusuke attempted to catch up with the others, Kurama insisted they do so on the way so as not to lose time.

It hadn't been all that long since they returned from Demon World, but they'd grown apart. Kuwabara was as excitable as ever, but he'd lost some of his brashness and in its place was hesitation. Kurama saw his reluctance when he had appeared in the café door at the beginning of the meeting and counted the extra seconds it took for him to finally come and sit down. Despite the brave front he put on in front of Yusuke, it was obvious that he was tired of straddling the line between the Living and Spirit worlds, his psychic abilities never allowing him a completely normal life. Kurama couldn't say he blamed him.

Yusuke, on the other hand, had only become even more deeply entrenched in Demon World and its politics, his fascination with his heritage bordering on obsession. Keiko had confided in Kurama more than once about him taking off in the middle of the night and disappearing for days at a time, back to Demon World, where he could vent and fight and be himself in a way that just wasn't possible in the Living World.

Hiei, Kurama thought, had changed the most, though this was perhaps because Kurama had known him the longest and any slight change was easy to spot. To call him gentle would have been a bit of a stretch, but it was something akin to that; Kurama noticed how he hadn't slipped out the moment the meeting was over or gone off on his own, choosing to linger and walk with the others with something like fondness in his eyes. No longer did he hurry through life searching for threats to eliminate. He took his time now, looked carefully but not coldly, and he moved with newfound purpose, perhaps something he'd found since he began working with Mukuro.

They'd all found something, Kurama realized, lives apart from the trouble Spirit World had roped them all into, grown and matured and changed, and Kurama felt as though he'd been left behind. Of course, he'd always had a life separate from being a spirit detective, a mother to look after and goals to achieve; in that way, the others were only now catching up to him. Perhaps it was because Kurama was old, much older than them, and he was done growing and changing, and for some reason, he'd foolishly hoped they were, as well.

He had to shake his head and laugh inwardly; kitsune abhorred change. For all the shapeshifting they did, they would always return to their true form, because they knew that was how they were meant to be. They were timeless creatures, long-lived and stubborn, and no matter how many faces they wore, none would ever be as comfortable as the one they were born with.

Kurama wondered what that said about him, the kitsune who chose to remain a human, finding the role he played more comfortable than his true self. He thought he must be the opposite of Yusuke, more human than apparition, agonizing over a part of himself that he'd acquired along the way. He'd lost his roots.

With a hint of optimism, he thought that pursuing Tamamo-no-Mae could very well be the thing to knock some sense into him, reuniting him with his old friends and showing him that they really were the same people he remembered, regardless of their changes. Maybe he could find change in himself, as well, and feel that he had not traded one face for another, but simply metamorphosed into another self. The reappearance of the old kitsune was sure to dredge up parts of Kurama's past that he'd chosen to never confront, but perhaps the time for that discussion was closing in.

Assuming, of course, that Tamamo-no-Mae didn't kill them all first.

* * *

The girl and her sister were staying at an old-fashioned inn far removed from the city, nestled at the base of the mountains. Genkai had contacted the innkeepers before their arrival, and they were led down the hall to the last room on the left side. Kurama felt a heavy miasma hanging thick in the air, an eeriness that followed creatures that traveled the boundaries between worlds. Something had come in, and was likely still there. Yusuke knocked on the wooden door, and after a long pause, it creaked open and young woman poked her head out.

"Hello," she greeted them, sounding anxious, her gaze wandering from face to face, "Are you. Ah. Did, did Genkai send you?" Kurama sensed something odd, but it was too weak to put his finger on. She looked ordinary enough, dressed in one of the inn's striped yukata with her black hair cut short to the base of her neck.

"Yeah, she did," Yusuke said.

"Oh, good." The young woman laughed, though she sounded nervous. "Um. I-I'm Shiori, by the way," she said, opening the door the rest of the way and stepping back to let them in.

Kurama couldn't help but smile a bit. _A nice name._

He stopped in the doorway, taken aback by the overpowering scent of a demon, its aura draped over the entirety of the room, a marking scent that clung to everything inside. He could tell it was strong because even Kuwabara stumbled a few steps in and the others looked similarly bothered.

Shiori didn't seem to notice their discomfort—presumably, she couldn't sense anything strange—and went unhindered to the corner of the room where one of the futons was still rolled out, and another girl with an identical face and haircut was wrapped in the thick comforter, sweat beads collecting on her forehead and cheeks flushed with fever.

"Saki," Shiori said quietly, "Saki, the people Genkai told us about are here. They're going to help us."

Saki's eyes fluttered open and she glanced at the spirit detectives deliriously. She mumbled something that sounded like a greeting, but it was all slurred together.

"She's very sick," Shiori explained, kneeling at Saki's side with her hands clasped together in her lap, "She has been ever since we were attacked. She can barely sit up."

"Attacked?" Kuwabara repeated.

Shiori nodded. "Saki and I wanted to go hiking," she said, "We're twins, and we grew up very close, but our lives have taken us far away from each other. That's difficult, since we were always together when we were young." She rose to her feet, smiling sheepishly. "You don't have to stand. Make yourselves comfortable. I can make some tea, if you'd like something to drink?"

"Please don't trouble yourself," Kurama said, though he joined the others at the sectional couch in the middle of the room, sitting beside Hiei. "I was just about to ask if you were twins, actually. You look almost identical."

Shiori nodded, sitting adjacent to the detectives and glancing over at her sister, "I think anyone in my position would be worried about their sibling, but for us, it's deeper than that. I can feel that there's something wrong." She shook her head helplessly. "I just want her to get better."

"Tell us about what happened," Yusuke urged.

Shiori nodded. "We planned to go hiking," she continued, "We're actually not from this area, so we had to travel a little ways to get here. We thought we'd go across the mountains here and stop whenever we got tired, but we didn't get very far. On our first day, not far from this inn, we were walking along when something jumped out of the bushes."

"Something?"

"I thought," Shiori paused, "Well, I thought it was an animal. Something native to the area that lived in the mountains. It wasn't very big, but it was fast. I didn't get a good look at it. It jumped on Saki and knocked her over. I was scared, and I screamed and tried to throw something. It was gone so quickly."

"Did it do anything to her?" Kurama asked, "Does she have any wounds? Scratches or bite marks?"

Shiroi shook her head. "I couldn't find anything. Just scrapes on her knees from when she fell. But after that, she had trouble getting back up. She said she was dizzy, and she had to lean on me. We decided we'd rest for a while, and this inn was the first place we found."

Saki let out a whine and Shiori was on her feet in an instant, hurrying to her sister's side. "What's wrong?" she asked, "Does it hurt somewhere? Do you need some water?"

Saki rolled over to face her sister, reaching for Shiori and gripped her yukata. "Home," she whimpered, "I want to go home."

"I know. I know you do. We'll go as soon as you're feeling better."

It was then, as Shiori comforted her twin who writhed beneath the blankets, that Kurama noticed something—a piece of evidence—and rose from the couch. Shiori looked back over her shoulder at him, glancing up apprehensively, but she let him kneel next to her and examine Saki. Reaching to the edge of the blanket, he pulled a few stray hairs from where they'd been plastered to Saki's neck, damp with sweat. Kurama rubbed them between his fingers and held them up to his face, sniffing, and pointedly ignored the perturbed look on Shiori's face.

"Cat hair," he said, and she blinked, confusion obvious on her face.

"A cat? But that's," she paused, shaking her head. "No. It wasn't a cat. It couldn't have been just a cat." She became agitated then. "You think I'm making this up, don't you? Or that I'm crazy?"

"Nobody's accusing you of anything," Hiei said dismissively, and went to stand beside Kurama to get a better look at the hair for himself. "And it was no ordinary cat." There was something distinctly demonic about it, the slightest traces of otherworldly energy. The list of potential suspects had narrowed.

Kurama felt Hiei's eyes burning a hole into his side and looked over, sharing a knowing glance. There was something very strange about this; they'd come looking for evidence of a spirit fox and found a cat instead. Two apparitions immediately came to mind—the bakeneko and its larger, more troublesome relative, the nekomata—but if the sisters had come across one, it wouldn't have just jumped on Saki and run away, and it certainly wouldn't have left Shiori alive to tell the tale.

And perhaps, more pressingly, neither of these apparitions were frequently seen, even in Demon World.

Kurama glanced at Shiori once again, whose attention had shifted back to Saki when the other girl groaned and rolled onto her side, turning her back to them. He didn't sense anything overtly demonic in either of them, but there was something odd, draped around Saki as though the beast that had done this had left its scent on her. That didn't make sense, either; animal apparitions didn't leave scents behind without very good reason, and he could only think that it must have been accidental. The creature had come close to her and left something behind without meaning to.

But why didn't it kill her? It went to the trouble of making itself known to two humans alone in the mountains, and yet it left them both alive.

"We're going to need some time to think this over," Kurama said, and Shiori turned to him, "It's clear that your sister has been attacked by something, and there's definitely some sort of demonic energy clinging to her that's making her ill. Beyond that, we'll need to do some more investigation."

"That's," Shiori spluttered, "That's it? You can't help us anymore than that?"

Taking the lead for a moment, Kuwabara stood from the couch, pen in hand. "You got any paper?" he asked, and Shiori stood confused for a moment before slowly nodding and going through a hiking bag in the corner for a notebook. Kuwabara tore a few pages out and ripped them into long rectangles, carefully writing out blessings not unlike the sort adorning shrine ofuda, and muttered a few words to infuse them with energy. Kurama raised a brow, impressed with what he'd learned in his absence, and watched Kuwabara walk around the room, placing them next to the window and in the closet. "They're not shrine-consecrated or anything fancy like that," he said, "But they've got some juice in them. They'll keep demons out."

Shiori looked confused but slowly nodded, seemingly placated for the time being. "Will you come back tomorrow?" she asked, "Even if you don't find anything?"

"Yes," Kurama said, "I'll bring something for your sister's fever, if you'd like."

"Please."

They filed out the door one at a time, Kurama lingering to look back at Shiori's brow creased with worry and Saki's beaded with sweat. Kuwabara stood behind him, and he waited for him to go on ahead, but the human didn't leave. It was then that Kurama noticed the final paper talisman in his hand, and he realized that Kuwabara was waiting for Kurama to go to place it at the door. He went out into the hallway, standing with Hiei and Yusuke while Kuwabara looked for somewhere unobtrusive to put the talisman.

"It's rather impressive," Kurama noted, "I know very few people capable of creating barrier talismans."

Yusuke had a strangely solemn look on his face, having followed Kurama's gaze to watch his friend in the doorway. "Yeah. He wasn't too sure about learning how to do it at first. On one hand, the guy's practically a weirdness magnet; ghosts and demons gravitate towards him, and he's tired of low-rank apparitions busting in at night looking for an easy meal. On the other hand, you remember the job where we had to rescue Yukina, and the wards Tarukane used to keep her from leaving?"

Hiei didn't flinch at the name anymore, but his eyes narrowed at the memory.

"In the end, though, she talked him into learning how to make them from a guy at the local temple," Yusuke continued, "She said she knew he'd never use them for evil, only to protect people, so it was okay."

Kuwabara was as soft-hearted as ever if he was reluctant to learn a defensive technique simply because he'd seen it used malevolently before; it made Kurama feel better somehow. "He has talent. I can tell they're strong from here."

"Ha. Don't tell him that, it'll go to his head."

Kurama smiled. "I doubt that."

Kuwabara came into the hall a moment later, frowning, and asked what they were all smiling about. Yusuke said he was just telling the others how he'd probably rather adopt a cat apparition than fight it and Kuwabara grabbed a fistful of his shirt collar and looked vaguely offended, but the gesture was lighthearted and playful.

Some things, Kurama thought with a smile, never changed.


	3. The Liars

Sumire didn't like the Living World.

There were too many things crammed together, buildings that touched the sky and loomed over her like giants, overcrowded and nonsensically crisscrossing roads. It wasn't like her home at all where there was room to walk, where there were no harsh lights in the night, only twinkling stars and the moon. She couldn't hear the birds or smell the wind here. She didn't know what Tamamo-no-Mae liked about it so much.

 _She must have been lying,_ she thought to herself as she stretched in the morning, arching her back and flexing her paws against the blanket, _that's all kitsune ever do._

When Sumire was only a kitten, she heard stories from the older nekomata, bragging about their journeys to the Living World in the old days. They used to show off the scars they got from shrines and temples, the lines seared into their flesh from the protective wards hung in trees and plastered on doors. They treated them as though they were badges of honor.

But not all of them had scars. Sumire heard them say that only those bearing ill will and evil intentions in their hearts would incite the wrath of a guardian deity or protective magic. She'd been hopeful, then, even when she'd seen one of the humans scatter his homemade talismans around the room, believing that her pure heart would protect her, and tried to carefully take them down in the night so no one would even notice they were gone in the morning.

She'd been wrong; she felt welts rising along her spine where the character that meant " _FORBIDDEN_ " had been singed into her, burning away her fur in clumps. She cursed her own foolishness for believing she would be safe; she had been sent to kill a fellow apparition, and she had decided that she would devour his very essence. No matter what justification she repeated in her head, the talismans saw through her and punished her accordingly for daring to touch them when she was impure. But Sumire was stronger than the wards and, with a cry, she pushed back against their power with her own, watching in twisted fascination as they caught aflame and burned away.

She'd heard the humans coming from far away the previous day, heard their footsteps loud and clumsy outside of the inn, disturbing the peaceful energies of the mountain. She'd been frightened at first, wondering if she'd be discovered, but managed to take the proper precautions and assume a disguise that she knew would fool them. She'd listened to their prattle and observed them without them noticing, and when one among them discovered some of her hair, carelessly shed and left behind before she'd shifted into a human form, she'd stopped breathing for just a moment, because she felt it then; that the one who had come so close to her was not a human. The one beside him, the small one with narrow eyes, was not, either. And yet, they were nonchalant as they stood with the humans, looking so natural that she had nearly missed the difference in their auras. It was a mistake she couldn't afford to make again.

The one who found the hair, she thought, must be a kitsune. He smelled of old forests and wet earth, a medley of wildflowers. He must have been holding back, though, not allowing all of his demonic energy to seep into the open, hiding his true nature. Sumire could have been fooled into believing he was some weak apparition or even a human had she not known better; foxes let nothing betray their true forms and thoughts.

They would be returning later that day. Sumire slowly uncurled her tail from her body and stood, arching her back with a yawn. She was still very weak, her energy barely recognizable even to herself, and she struggled to grow larger, a cat the size of a human child, and the transformation took a frustratingly long time.

She closed her eyes and waited for the old magic to fill her veins, stretching her bones into strange shapes, making her fur recede and her ears pull down to the sides of her head. Her pupils rounded out and her tail withered until she was wearing the guise of a human. She took the soft yukata the inn had provided and began to get dressed, enjoying the warmth it brought in place of her fur, and went to lie down again, pulling the covers back over herself.

Beside her, the human girl was still sleeping, unaware that she did so beside a nekomata. Sumire thought it was odd how things had turned out, but she tried to use the situation to her advantage. In a way, this human was protecting her from the spirit detectives and their apparition allies, and she wasn't even aware of it. After all, if she was the human's sister, she couldn't be a demon.

Of course, this ruse could only last so long. Maintaining the spell she'd cast over the girl with so little energy was difficult. If anyone figured out the truth and told her, it might even break completely. And with the detectives investigating, she knew her time was running out.

If the red-haired demon was truly a kitsune, then all she needed to do was devour him. She wouldn't need to worry about what the others would do in retaliation then, because she'd be strong enough to take care of them afterwards. Killing a kitsune would be no easy task, though, and Sumire knew she'd have to employ more trickery to make sure things went smoothly.

Somewhere deep inside, guilt bubbled up towards the surface. She pushed it down and locked it away beneath fresh memories of Two-Tails Village, the frightened eyes of her parents, the head of the village falling to his knees before Tamamo-no-Mae as she ate his eye.

If she needed to become as much of a monster as the kitsune were to protect what she cared about, then so be it.

* * *

"We know that we're dealing with a cat apparition of some sort."

The former detectives were assembled in Shizuru's apartment. Hiei and Kuwabara were seated in the living room while Yusuke paced, already growing restless. Shizuru had the glass doors that lead to the balcony cracked open for fresh air, a cigarette balanced between her index and middle fingers with a lazy trail of smoke circling over her head.

Kurama stood in the kitchen, a potted plant resting in the sink, and cupped his hands over it, gently urging the seed he'd planted to grow. "In all likelihood, that means it's one of two things," he continued. "A bakeneko or a nekomata."

He heard Yusuke stop pacing and felt the boy's eyes on his back. "Does it matter much which it is?" he asked.

"Well, not especially." The soil shifted and a slender, green stalk slowly rose towards Kurama's hands. "The bakeneko is a closely related subspecies to the nekomata, and they're naturally quite similar. I suppose it's just curiosity that has me wondering. Either way, it'll be troublesome."

"Come to think of it," Kuwabara mused, "I don't think we've ever dealt with a cat demon before, unless Byakko counts. Are they anything like him?"

Kurama shook his head. "No, Byakko was a particular type of tiger apparition. There isn't much similarity. There was a cat apparition involved in the Demon World tournament, but I doubt he comes from the same lands our current target does." Small buds appeared along the side of the plant, gradually growing and ripening, and Kurama closed his eyes to focus. "King Yama could never rule all of Demon World in all of the centuries he was in power, but he tried enforcing a number of reforms over what he could control. These were put in place with the goal of civilizing demon society, and would lay the groundwork for the Three Kings to rise to power."

Shizuru tapped the faintly glowing embers on the end of her cigarette into a glass dish on the table, clearing her throat. "Pardon me for my ignorance," she drawled, "but I'm having a really hard time imagining a 'civilized' Demon World."

Kurama chuckled. "I use the term lightly. Our culture is quite different from that of humans, and truly, that was what Enma hoped to change. Perhaps he'd hoped we would be easier to rule if we more closely resembled the denizens of the Living World. Some of these laws were resisted at first; when it was first forbidden to cross into the Living World, there were riots. Many went anyway." The plant began to bloom under his hands, buds splitting into flowers secreting a clear liquid and dropping small, dark seeds into the dirt. Kurama picked out a handful to tuck into his pocket and turned to face the group. "Some changes were met with more acceptance, however."

"Such as the ban on spiritual cannibalism," Hiei said, his tone accusatory and his eyes narrowed. He looked genuinely annoyed, and Kurama supposed it was because Hiei had been, until just recently, under the impression he finally knew everything about him. A foolish assumption, even for someone he'd known as long as Hiei. No one, Kurama was certain, knew his entire history; the good deeds, the atrocities, and the time that passed far too slowly in between.

No one except another kitsune, though if they could solve this case, she'd take her secrets with her to the grave.

"The old cat apparition tribes were part of the minority who disliked even the more popular reforms," Kurama said. "Rather than bow to the new laws, they chose to live outside of where they applied, in the untamed wilds of Demon World that still abide by the codes of the past. Most apparitions refer to it as the Lost Country today. It won't be surprising if our culprit turns out to be working for Tamamo-no-Mae—they'd likely have similar values."

"Let me guess," Kuwabara muttered, expression somewhat horrified. "We've never fought something from the boonies of Demon World."

"That's correct."

Quiet laughter from the corner drew his attention, and he turned to see Shizuru's shoulders shaking, a smile on her face. "Don't mind me," she said, shaking her head. "It's just funny. The way you're talking, Kurama, it sounds like you really hate cats."

Kurama shrugged indifferently. "I wouldn't say I hate them. Although it's true that cats and foxes naturally don't get along."

"Really? Even when it comes to apparitions?"

"Especially when it comes to apparitions."

"Probably because you have too much in common," Hiei scoffed, earning a perturbed glance from Kurama, who decided to change the subject.

"In any case, we should check on the sisters. I've prepared something for Saki that will lessen her fever and dispel lingering demonic energy. Hopefully, that will ease Shiori's worries, and maybe Saki will have something to tell us."

Shizuru called after them to bring her back a souvenir as they left, and the former detectives made their way back towards the inn. "We're really not any further along in this than we were yesterday, though, right?" Yusuke asked. "I mean, yeah, it's good that we can help Saki, but we still don't know where the cat went."

Kurama grimaced. "I have a hunch, actually."

* * *

Spirit foxes, and kitsune in particular, were a naturally powerful class of apparition that outranked most others in skill, intelligence and strength. One may have wondered why, then, the kitsune had not come to rule Demon World, or all three worlds, why Enma's reforms were even allowed to pass when the land of apparitions had such terrifying creatures. At the very least, it was curious that there were so few kitsune in Demon World when they were among its most powerful denizens.

Kurama, too, asked these questions as a child. His mother Shiragiku, a great silver fox whose fur glittered in the light like thousands of gemstones, would smile sadly and never answer. Since then, Kurama had met many demons, and it was a rare one that could speak of the Fox Hunts. Most only knew of it through old texts, yellowed and faded scrolls with records of ancient history scrawled upon them stored in the treasure vaults of Spirit World.

Kurama lived through the Hunts, though he didn't know that at the time. It was the old camellia tree that told him the truth, because the forest had seen everything that happened and it pitied him.

It was around the time that he met _her_ ; a golden fox child no older than him who came to his homeland with wide, fearful eyes, blood streaked across her face and the front of her shivering body.

 _How strange_ , Kurama thought, _she was so small then._

If someone had told him that timid creature would become one of the most feared and terrible monsters in the history of the three worlds, he wouldn't have believed them.

* * *

Kurama had expected the scent of the apparition to fade overnight, so when Shiori opened the door and he ran straight into a thick cloud of demonic energy, wisps of the spirit cat's scent mingling with that of a human's, he nearly recoiled in surprise. "Oh, good, you've come back," she said, sounding relieved, and stepped aside to let them in.

The miasma had only grown stronger. It had settled over the room and clung to everything in it, including both of the sisters, coiling around them like ghostly manacles. The smell was nearly overpowering; Kurama saw Hiei and Yusuke flinch when they walked in and Kuwabara wrinkled his nose.

He wasn't sure if the demon had hidden its aura deliberately or if it had been weakened before, but he was certain that it was growing stronger.

"Hey, uh, you mind if I open a window?" Yusuke asked. "It's just a little stuffy in here is all."

"Oh, that's fine," Shiori told him.

As the detective hurriedly slid the glass aside, Kurama smelled something peculiar that further agitated his nose, something singed. Yusuke noticed it, too, and bent to swipe his hand along the floor, pulling it back to inspect the black smear that covered his fingertips.

"Ash," he said, and Kuwabara's eyes widened.

"The protective charms," he realized, and turned wildly, looking at each of the places he'd put them the previous day. Kurama's eyes followed him around the room, though the other ones were untouched. "Looks like just that one got burned up. Something must've tried to come through the window."

Shiori stiffened, eyes widening. "What?" she asked anxiously. "S-something came in? When?! Did it do something to us? To Saki? I didn't even notice!"

Kuwabara tried to calm her, saying that they both seemed fine, but she was nearly in hysterics, insisting that they shut the window. Yusuke reluctantly did so, and Kuwabara searched for paper to draw up a new charm.

Hiei didn't say a word, though Kurama saw him glancing around the room carefully. He knew just as well as Kurama that something wasn't right.

"Shiori," Kurama said, "I brought something for your sister. It should help with her fever."

"You did?" He could still feel panic rolling off of her in waves but her eyes softened with gratitude. "Thank you. Can I give it to her now?"

"Of course." He handed her one of the seeds, which she examined in her palm with slight apprehension, though eventually knelt beside the rumpled futon and the sick body wrapped in blankets.

"Saki, they brought you some medicine," she said gently, and Saki stirred. She didn't say anything as Shiori helped her sit up slowly, eyes hazy and unfocused, but she didn't take the seed from Shiori, sitting motionless and drowsily staring into space. Kurama felt a spike of demonic energy and tensed in anticipation, ready for a fight. Shiori held the seed up to her sister's mouth.

"No," Saki whined, pushing her sister away childishly.

Shiori frowned. "You need to take this. It'll help you feel better."

"No!" It was the most energetic reaction they'd seen from the sick girl. She began to thrash, pushing her sister away and convulsing. "Take it back! Keep it away from me!"

"Saki, what's wrong with you?" Shiori cried, dodging her sister's swinging fists as she tried again to give her the seed, only for it to be smacked out of her hand and land on the tatami floor at Kurama's feet.

Yusuke nudged Kuwabara, muttering, "What the hell is this? Is she possessed or something?"

His friend shrugged helplessly. "I dunno. I'm not an exorcist. Should we call Genkai?"

"Take it back!" Saki continued to yell, and Shiori held her sister's wrists, looking deeply distressed.

"Okay," she said. "You don't have to take it. I won't make you." Saki began to calm then, slowly going limp in Shiori's arms and collapsing forward into her, muttering incoherently. Shiori glanced back over her shoulder as she rubbed circles into Saki's back with the pad of her thumb. "I'm really sorry," she said. "I'm sure she's grateful for the help, she's just...not well right now."

Kurama bent to pick up the seed and felt a small jolt, like a shock of static electricity, residual traces of another demon's energy. He forced a smile. "It's alright. Maybe she'd prefer more conventional medicine."

"Did you find out anything else?" Shiori asked desperately, "Anything at all?" Saki had gone still in her arms, chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.

Kurama hesitated to speak, glancing at the new charm Kuwabara was placing at the window. "I'm sorry," he said slowly, "but we're not certain yet. I hate to trouble you, but if we could come again tomorrow…."

"That's fine," Shiori said quickly, "please." In her arms, Saki had shifted slightly, and clung to her like a frightened child.

* * *

"Alright, what's going through your head?" Yusuke asked the moment they were outside, "Do we know where the cat went after it broke in again?"

Kurama shook his head, eyes fixed on the mountain path as they descended back towards town. "It didn't break in again. I doubt it ever left." He glanced over at Yusuke, who looked mildly surprised. "You felt it, didn't you? The demon was in the room with us the entire time. It's taken the form of one of those girls."

"And now we have to figure out which one it is," Kuwabara groused.

"Unfortunately, yes. And it's assessed that we're a threat by now. This isn't going to be easy."

"It's not that hard to figure out," Yusuke scoffed. "The sick one threw a fit when she was supposed to take medicine that would've gotten rid of demonic energy, right? That can't be a coincidence. She had to know it would've made her weaker and flipped out."

"Saki does seem to be the likelier of the two," Kurama nodded, "But we can't act until we're certain. Ideally, we should separate them. That way, the apparition will lose its influence over the human and we won't have a hostage situation on our hands. The only way to know for sure which is the demon is to find the scar."

"Scar?"

"Oh," Kuwabara gasped, "because of the protective talisman."

"Precisely. It takes a fair amount of power and control to reduce a talisman to ash like that, but the apparition should be left with a scar somewhere on their body as a consequence," Kurama said, "A stronger demon might not have it for long, but if it only happened last night, it'll still be there for at least a few days."

"So, somehow, we convince them to split up, then we check who has a mark, and that's the one that we have to take down." Yusuke was animated again, finally in familiar territory. "No problem."

Hiei glanced between them. "Who's going to tell the human about what happened to her sister?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

Kurama's gaze fell to the ground. "Whichever of the sisters is human," he said quietly, "lost her twin that day on the mountain. She was likely made to forget by the demon's influence. Cat apparitions are poor shapeshifters, and they usually have to devour a human to maintain their form."

An unsettled silence fell over the four of them, broken at last by Yusuke's quiet mutter of, "Damn."

"We'll worry about it later," Kurama said. "Tonight, we should consider what kind of excuse will convince Shiori to part with Saki."

They went their separate ways at the base mountain, though Hiei lingered a moment. "Is there something you want to tell me?" he asked.

Kurama turned to him, one brow raised. "Not particularly, no."

"You've been out of sorts since this case began." Hiei narrowed his eyes. "If I had to guess, I'd say Tamamo-no-Mae and this cat are dragging up the past for you."

"You'd be right."

The small apparition let out a derisive sound and turned away, arms crossed. "We don't have time for you to wallow in your own self-pity," he said. "Even Urameshi understands by now that Tamamo-no-Mae is a serious threat. Keep your mind in the present."

 _Don't worry so much,_ Hiei was trying to say in his own clumsy way. Kurama couldn't help but smile at the gesture.

"I assure you, Hiei, my mind is firmly anchored in the present."

"You're a poor liar, fox," Hiei sneered.

 _No,_ Kurama thought, _I'm far too good, and that's why you believe the person standing in front of you is who I really am._

Hiei leapt and vanished into the setting sun, off to hone his swordcraft somewhere, leaving Kurama alone at the base of the mountain beneath a darkening sky.


	4. The Hunter's Folly

In the early morning before the sun rose, Sumire woke to a fox cry, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel it coming closer, frightful power surging through the inn, an ominous presence that stopped right outside of the door to the room, giving off heat like a flickering flame. She uncurled her tail from around her legs and shifted forms as she rose to her feet, front paws lifting off the ground as her body elongated into that of a nekomata. She conjured her flower-patterned jinbei around herself before going to answer the door; she knew who it was already.

Standing in the dark hallway was a young man who towered over her, two fox ears sticking out of his dark orange hair and a white-tipped tail swishing impatiently behind him. He wore blood red robes and looked down at Sumire with a tight frown, leaning down to sniff her. "He's been here, hasn't he?" he asked. Sumire nodded, looking away when he narrowed his eyes in disapproval. "And you didn't kill him?"

"He wasn't alone," she insisted, "I haven't had a good opportunity yet. But soon—!"

"'Soon' isn't good enough," the kitsune growled, and she shrank back, ducking her head as her tail tucked in between her legs. "Tamamo-no-Mae has shown you great compassion, giving such an important task to an apparition as lowly as a cat. You'll complete your mission tonight, or I'll report your failure."

"Tonight?" Sumire repeated, eyes growing wide. "But that's...I'm not ready."

"Then get ready."

"It isn't that simple," she insisted. "Akemori, you knew Kurama, didn't you? Isn't there anything you could tell me that would help?"

She was given another sharp glare, though his gaze wandered then, eyes clouded with memories. "I can't help you," he said, "This is an unpleasant business for me, too, you know. We were friends once. Tamamo-no-Mae is certain that he won't see reason, though, even if we speak to him. He's become too attached to the Living World." He glanced at the sleeping human in the room, lips curling in disgust. "Speaking of becoming too attached…."

Sumire moved into his line of sight again, putting herself between the human and Akemori. "She's useful," she said quickly. "As long as I have her under control, the detectives are less likely to suspect me. She's protected me so far."

Akemori looked skeptical but didn't argue further, simply nodding. "Tonight, Sumire," he warned. "I'll be back to make sure you got the job done."

"I will," she promised.

He didn't turn back to look at her as he left, shifting into a red fox and dashing back down the hall. Sumire closed the door and shut her eyes, letting out a long sigh. She didn't know what to do. She'd hoped for more time, enough to come up with a better strategy, but as it was, it seemed she'd have no choice but to fight all four of the detectives at the same time. Perhaps if she lured them further into the mountains…?

No, she decided, that wouldn't work either. She was surrounded by forest on all sides, and the forest was the kitsune's realm. Fighting Kurama there would be giving him the home advantage. She sunk to the floor, head in her paws.

This was it, she told herself. She was terrified, but the needs of her village came before all else, and she just had to keep her home in mind to raise her spirits.

 _Tonight,_ she thought, _I'll have to do it tonight. It's my only chance._

If she could just survive, then the nightmare would be over.

* * *

Koenma had gathered them together again, this time assembling at Shizuru's, though Kurama was the last to hear about it.

The moment he walked in the door, all eyes were on him, and Koenma's gaze held an edge of suspicion. Kurama frowned deeply and remained in the entryway, refusing to come any closer. "It's inconsiderate to purposefully give someone the wrong meeting time so you can talk behind their back," he said.

"My apologies," Koenma began to say, but Kurama cut him off.

"Don't. Your insincerity shows on your face. Just what was so important that I couldn't be in the room to hear it?"

Caught red-handed, Koenma looked away in embarrassment. "I was considering taking you off of the case." he admitted, "It's my fault for failing to realize just how personal it is, and I truly am sorry for making such a mistake in the first place."

"So you consulted my teammates." Kurama shook his head, no longer quite so angry. "I'm sure they insisted I stay on?"

Rather than the enthusiastic affirmation he expected, he heard only silence. Kuwabara, too, couldn't meet his eyes. Yusuke looked at him with something like pity, and Hiei again looked incensed.

The pain of betrayal surged through Kurama, and he glared at Koenma as he came further into the room, demanding, "What did you tell them?"

"The truth," Koenma said helplessly. "Please believe me, Kurama, I didn't mean—!"

The rose whip was wrapped around his throat in an instant, and as Koenma's hands scrabbled across it, trying to free himself, the former detectives jumped to their feet.

"Kurama, what are you doing?" Yusuke shouted. "Let him go!"

Hiei appeared at his side, his arm gripping the one that held the rose whip. "Think clearly, fox," he growled. "You're acting irrationally."

Kurama's grip faltered. Irrationally? Yes, he supposed they had come to expect rationality from him, cold and detached decision-making. But that wasn't who he was, not really; that wasn't the kitsune he lived as for the first couple thousand years. That came later, after he had seen so much and lost even more. That was after he was sure she was gone, and there was no more passion left in his body.

Kurama let the whip fall and it transformed back into a rose as it hit the ground. The young ruler of Spirit World coughed as he rubbed his throat, taking deep breaths. "My apologies," Kurama said hollowly, picking up the rose as he went to sit at the table with the others. "I don't think it's too much to ask that I'm included in any conversation regarding the case from now on?"

Koenma tried to muster an appreciative smile, but it came out fearful. "Of course not," he said. "Everyone should be on the same page, so I'll start from the beginning. This came about because I've had some of my agents go on reconnaissance missions in distant parts of Demon World where Tamamo-no-Mae has been sighted. The situation has gotten much worse; she's rallied support in a few remote villages. She's installed loyalists in several key locations to defend against incursions by Spirit World's forces."

"Tamamo-no-Mae has loyalists?" Kurama asked, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized he already knew where the conversation was headed. "They're kitsune, aren't they?"

Koenma nodded. "All of them are, and like you, none of them have any official records in Spirit World."

Kurama held his gaze. "Because of the Fox Hunts."

To his credit, Koenma did not turn from him in shame this time. "That's correct."

"This is the first I've heard of it," Hiei said quietly, his red eyes fixed on Kurama's face from where he sat on his right.

"That's because you're young," Kurama said. "Anyone who took part is long dead now. We made sure of it."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Kuwabara demanded. "And don't say it's not a big deal, because obviously it is. You just kept something like that bottled up and never told us?"

"It was never relevant."

"Well, it is now, obviously."

Hiei stood from the table then, unable to contain his anger any longer. "Don't bother asking him why he never told us," he spat. "Kurama is a fox, _of course_ he wouldn't tell us. Keeping secrets and lying are what they do best."

He was gone then, whipping up a gust of wind as he vanished, the balcony door suddenly open. Yusuke was immediately on his feet, yelling after him to come back, but Kurama didn't even look up.

"That was a little harsh," Kuwabara muttered.

"No. It wasn't." Kurama smiled bitterly. "I deserved that. He feels betrayed that I would have kept something so important from him when he's told me everything about himself. And he certainly isn't wrong about foxes."

The odor of tobacco caught his attention, and Kurama turned to find the door to Shizuru's bedroom open. She was leaning against the doorway, taking a long drag off of her cigarette and staring at them with tired eyes. "You're making a goddamn racket out here."

"Sorry, sis," Kuwabara said sheepishly, but her attention was on Kurama.

"It's you, mostly," she said. "Your energy's all out of whack. Is this about cats again?"

Kurama shook his head. "Foxes, actually."

"Huh." She shrugged. "I gave it some thought, though, and I think I know why you wouldn't like cats."

"This isn't about cats, though—!"

She cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand. "If it isn't now, it will be," she said, "I have a feeling."

"You had a premonition?"

"Something like that. Anyway, foxes are kind of in between cats and dogs, aren't they? They like to be with their families and their skulks, but they're more independent than dogs or wolves. They're similar, though, close but not quite the same, and I think that's what really what grates on your nerves."

It was the second time someone had mentioned a similarity, the first being Hiei, and it still rubbed Kurama the wrong way. "Shizuru," Kurama said firmly, "I don't know where this coming from, but cats do not 'grate on my nerves,' nor am I anything like one."

She frowned. "I'm not going to argue with you about it," she said dismissively with a smug, _I'm the psychic here,_ roll of her eyes. Kurama decided he wouldn't argue, either.

"Are you sure, though?" Kuwabara asked. "About staying on the case, even though...you know…."

"It makes no difference to me," Kurama said, and he meant it. The Hunts had been in his mind when he heard Tamamo-no-Mae's name for the first time in centuries; his teammates coming to know about them changed little.

"What about Hiei?"

"Hiei will come back after he's cooled off. You know how he is." He glanced at Koenma, who flinched. "Is there anything else you came to tell us?"

"No," the young ruler said. "That's all."

"Then please excuse me. I'd like to have a moment to myself." Without waiting for a response, Kurama stood from the table and left.

He couldn't wait for this case to be over; it had hardly begun and it was wearing him thin already. He had nothing to say to Tamamo-no-Mae, no questions or condolences. He would kill her himself to make sure the job was really done this time, and the dark legacy of the Fox Hunts, the stigma of the kitsune, the story of the nine-tailed monster that spanned several millennia, would all be over. He felt no remorse because it was what must be done. He thought that, in another life, it could have been the other way around; he could have been the beast that now haunted Spirit World for its mistakes, and she could have been the one trying to stop him.

For that, he was grateful to Tamamo-no-Mae for being the unlucky one, but he was also dismayed that it had to be this way at all.

* * *

Once, tucked away in the oldest forests of Demon World where the wildflowers traded gossip on whispering winds and old, moss-covered trees kept careful watch of their territory, there was a place called the Garden of the Flowering Quince where foxes were born. Like many Gardens throughout Demon World, it was where grown foxes would return if they ever wished to have kits of their own, a homeland and a paradise. All of Kurama's earliest memories were there, in a sea of green dotted by the colors of flower petals no matter the season; the magenta bell-shaped tubes of morning glories, the small, pink buds of plum blossoms, the deep scarlet of roses. His mother wove him a crown of baby's breath and silver cock's comb and declared him prince of their little kingdom, and he would sleep wrapped in her nine tails.

"Mother," he'd ask, "there are other foxes, aren't there? There are only a few other families in this Garden, but aren't there more of us in the world?"

Shiragiku insisted that there were. "But they are all hiding."

"Just like us?"

She nodded and her smile became tinged with sadness.

"What are we hiding from?"

She placed one of her gentle hands on his head, stroking between his pointed ears. "I will tell you when you are a bit older," she promised.

But Kurama was young and curious, and he wanted to know in that instant. "Is it because other apparitions are jealous of us?" he asked. "Because we're so strong and smart?"

His mother shook her head. "No, Kurama. They are not jealous. They are afraid. Sometimes, fear turns into hatred."

"They hate us?" She wished to say no more, but Kurama continued to prod, "It doesn't matter, does it? We're stronger than them, aren't we?"

"We are strong, Kurama," Shiragiku said softly, "But we are not strong enough to fight the whole world."

* * *

Kurama ended up going back to see the sisters by himself.

He knew Yusuke would be displeased with him for going to conduct investigations on his own, but he didn't see the harm. The entire team had been rattled by Koenma's—incredibly poor—decision to drag out Kurama's past now as opposed to waiting until the case was over, Hiei was off somewhere sulking, Yusuke was trying to track him down and Kuwabara had no doubt followed by now; they were in no condition to cooperate anyway. Kurama was by no means arrogant, but he had little reason to believe he would have difficulty dealing with their target if it did choose to show itself. Barbaric cat apparition or not, he had handled far worse under much more strenuous circumstances.

He hadn't expected the paralyzing fear he saw on Shiori's face when she opened the door just a crack to peer out at him, eyes wide and hands trembling. "Oh," she said, sounding relieved. "It's just you."

Kurama raised a brow. "Were you expecting someone else?"

Shiori didn't answer. She stepped back, opening the door a bit more. "Come in," she said quietly, "and please hurry." She glanced out into the hallway again once he was inside. "Where are your friends?"

"Ah. Investigating," he said with a smile, "Elsewhere. We thought we'd split up to cover more ground." Behind her, Saki shifted in her sleep.

"I see," Shiori said, and sat on the couch, posture stiff.

"Shiori," Kurama said cautiously, and went to sit down opposite her, moving slowly so he wouldn't frighten her. "Has something else happened?"

Shiori took a deep breath, gaze flicking back to her sister on the floor. "I think," she whispered, voice cracking in panic, "that there's something really wrong with Saki." Kurama thought she must not have noticed, but her sister's breathing had quieted and she was remaining largely still. Feigning sleep and listening, if he had to guess. Shiori reached forward, gripping Kurama's sleeve and whimpered, "Please don't leave me alone with her."

Kurama leaned in, keeping his voice low. "It's alright," he assured her, "I won't let anything happen to you. But are you sure it wouldn't be better for you to leave?"

"No, I," she let out a frustrated sigh. "She's my sister. I can't just leave her, no matter what."

 _She isn't your sister,_ Kurama thought. "That's fine. I'll stay, and we'll figure this out. Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Shiori nodded and let go of him, settling onto the couch with her hands resting in her lap, pale and trembling. Kurama glanced down at Saki, her back turned to both of them, her restlessness suddenly giving way to stillness and her energy laced with that of an apparition's.

Something would happen, he knew, and it would happen soon.

* * *

By the time Yusuke managed to find Hiei, the sky was steeped in the colors of fire, flushed by sunset. Hiei had gone halfway to Genkai's, heading into the mountains but away from the inn, perched in the highest branches of a maple tree overlooking a lake. He stuck out like an oversized raven in the brilliant red leaves. The other trees lining the lake cast long shadows that crept closer as the minutes ticked by, and Yusuke thought of the Kurama he'd glimpsed in the Demon World tournament as he looked at them, the bark old and gnarled, half-naked branches twisting skyward, looking primordial and almost alien.

"Most living things change as they age, from birth to death." Hiei said from above, "But kitsune reach a certain age, and then they cease changing. Kurama had already reached that point long ago. If circumstance hadn't forced him to come to Living World, he'd probably still be a thief."

"But he had to change when he came here," Yusuke said, "And not just a little bit. So is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Neither," Hiei grunted. "It is what it is. But Kurama is in touch with the part of himself that is a kitsune, and once again, he's stopped changing. He's a dutiful son, a serious student, a loyal teammate, and he's unlikely to change into anything else." From the look on Yusuke's face, Hiei thought he still didn't quite understand what the problem was.

"So he's, what, unhappy?"

Hiei shrugged. "It's hard to tell with Kurama. I would have claimed to know, but…." He turned away. "Really, I shouldn't have been so naive to think I'd ever really know him."

Yusuke crouched a moment and then leapt into the tree, nearly losing his balance and gripping a groaning branch, ignoring the way Hiei leered at him for the clumsy display. When he finally managed to seat himself safely, a little lower than his teammate, he asked, "What do you think about this Fox Hunt stuff? Koenma explained it, but I still don't really get it."

Hiei didn't look at him. "There isn't anything to 'get.' In those days, Koenma's father was trying to gain control of Demon World, and he knew all demons feared the kitsune. He thought he'd kill two birds with one stone; destroy what he perceived as a threat to his rule and earn the trust of the apparitions by supporting a crusade against the foxes."

"Do kitsune deserve the bad rap they get?"

"We should never be so quick to judge an entire people by the actions of a few," Hiei said quietly, words tinged with regret; he felt he understood this better than most. "I think it's because they're old; they're among the oldest of apparitions, and their very image embodies that of the old Demon World, one that was ruled only by the strong."

Yusuke shrugged. "Wasn't it like that anyway? The first time I went was to take down the Four Saint Beasts, and I was pretty sure the strongest demon was the boss wherever he managed to hold his own. That's how the former kings worked, too."

Hiei shook his head, glancing down at Yusuke. "You and I are fortunate," he said. "We were born after the truly lawless days. We can't imagine what it was like then."

Yusuke looked up, meeting his gaze. "But Kurama can, right?"

They fell into silence, watching the sky grow dark and the stars begin to shine. "I haven't forgiven him," Hiei muttered. "I don't trust easily, and Kurama has destroyed what faith I had in him to be honest with me."

"That's probably fair," Yusuke chuckled. "But maybe for the time being, you can at least trust him enough to pull through for us when it comes to fighting Tamamo-no-Mae and her underlings? We'll have time to sort through all this afterwards."

"We will," Hiei nodded in agreement. "Though I worry about what this might bring. Kitsune number so few today; it's likely that all those still alive know one another, brought together by the Hunts. Tamamo-no-Mae and Kurama share a history, I'm certain."

Yusuke hesitated. "He wouldn't turn on us."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

Before he could continue, he was interrupted by a startled yelp from below. Botan landed on the lakeshore, hopping off of her oar. "There you are!" she cried, "Kuwabara and I have been looking all over for you two! Were you on your way to Genkai's?"

"Actually, no, but that might be a good idea," Yusuke said. "She could help us out." He leapt to the ground, followed by Hiei, who landed several paces ahead.

Botan shook her head. "No time," she said. "I have some information for you that might help, but you're going to need to hurry. Koenma said an apparition with a wildly fluctuating power level left Demon World, probably trying to avoid getting stopped on the way."

"One of Tamamo-no-Mae's?"

"It's possible." She glanced around. "Where's Kurama?"

"With Shizuru," Hiei answered. "But knowing him, he's gone out for fresh air by now."

Botan frowned. "This isn't good. We need everyone together to make a plan of attack. Genkai contacted us and said she's been in touch with that girl's parents. When she told them that their daughters were alright but one was sick, they were really confused. They don't have twins."

* * *

Shiori glanced at the window, nervously drumming her fingers against her leg as she sat on the couch. "Why don't I make us some tea?" she asked.

Kurama smiled, shaking his head. "You don't need to trouble yourself."

"I'll feel better if I have something to do."

"If you insist."

She nodded, eagerly standing and going over to the cupboard to retrieve a box of tea leaves. She glanced back over her shoulder to see if Kurama was still looking and relaxed when she saw his back turned.

She took a deep breath, held it, and then exhaled, dispelling a wave of demonic energy. She could feel it quietly creeping to the corners of the room, rushing up the walls, sealing the doors and the windows as she quietly spirited away the three of them. Saki whimpered in her sleep, and she felt Kurama's energy bristling in apprehension.

She retrieved the tea packet, blinking a few times and concentrating to make sure her pupils stayed rounded and turned back around, forcing a smile. "Give me just a minute," she muttered, "And I'll have some tea for us."


	5. The Prideful Fox

The Fox Hunts were a myth in Spirit World and a legend in Demon World, one that died with time as those who knew enough to tell it passed on without breathing a word of those dark days. They were long over by the time Sumire was born, but in the deepest recesses of Demon World beyond the boundaries of King Yama's empire, there were apparitions who still remembered it.

It was a dark business, Sumire often heard from the elders in Two-Tails Village, and not something that ended well for anyone. King Yama sought the eradication of the kitsune, but all he did was drive the most intelligent ones into hiding and made an enemy of them all. Where some had simply regarded him as a foreign power with no sway on their lives, they did not directly oppose his rule, and they had little reason to when he armed the denizens of Demon World and sent his own soldiers into the woods, offering lofty rewards for every pelt that was brought to him. It was greed and cruelty that drove the Fox Hunts, and it was greed and cruelty that spelled its end.

When the frenzy subsided and the last kitsune hadn't been seen in over a decade, Demon World collectively bowed in silence and wondered what it had done. Even King Yama could not spin the story to make it seem it had been necessary, and so he sought to simply erase the stain from history. Speaking of the Hunts became taboo, as was keeping fox pelts as war trophies. When those who'd participated the most fervently began to quietly disappear, one after another in the night, King Yama did nothing, confident that his message had reached the survivors—

They were not as immortal as they liked to believe.

But it was too late to extinguish the hatred that he had ignited in the kitsune. It was only a matter of time before his actions came back to haunt him and the very foxes he worked so hard to exterminate returned for their vengeance.

When Tamamo-no-Mae went to the Living World and carved a trail of blood across Asia, devouring kings, sultans, and emperors as she went, it seemed certain that King Yama's reckoning had come. That is why he worked so hard to stop her, spoke through an emissary to rally the humans against her and found a monk with the spiritual power able to hopefully end her for good.

"You mustn't trust the fox," Sumire's mother warned her long ago, "But you must understand why he is this way."

The kitsune were monsters, of course, but the thing that pushed them into the corner and forced their hand was Spirit World. If there was only one thing that Sumire was told she could hate with her whole being, it was the people of King Yama in their beautiful and cloistered empire, who ordered the Hunts with no thought of the consequences, who ordered the destruction of an entire tribe of apparitions for the sake of power.

That is why, Sumire thought, when Tamamo-no-Mae came to Two-Tails Village and claimed she would overthrow Spirit World, so many were quick to sympathize.

* * *

Sumire was patient.

She waited, wearing the face of the human girl, and watched Kurama carefully as they sat with one couch cushion between them, drinking from the teacup in her hand. There was nothing strange in it; she knew he was wary of her, that he must have realized by now that either she or Saki was not truly human, and she needed him to be uncertain until the final moment. She'd seen him carefully sniff the tea and take a small, testing sip, relying on his sensitive nose to pick up any traces of poison.

It was just as well that she do it tonight. Her energy had almost completely returned, and it wouldn't be possible to hide anymore, even with Saki steeped in her scent and under a spell that kept her delirious and susceptible to suggestion. She kept feeling her real ears trying to poke back out and her tail continually manifested, forcing her to wrap it around one leg beneath her clothes; her disguise was failing, and she was out of time.

She had Kurama alone; now she just needed to catch him off-guard.

"Thank you for staying with me," she said softly.

Kurama glanced over, looking startled at first. "Of course. I'm glad I could help. I wish we could do more for you and your sister, but I feel confident that we'll have things figured out soon enough."

"I'm glad to hear that." She set the teacup down on the table, glancing once more at Saki who slept peacefully now, the spell inactive. "I worry about her," she said quietly. "This entire time, she hasn't been acting right. I wonder if things will ever be the way they used to be."

"Don't worry," Kurama said. "In my experience, spiritual illness is easy to recover from when the victim is removed from the source of their affliction." He held her gaze. "Shiori, if it's alright, could we speak in the next room?" he said, speaking much more softly now. "The truth is, I believe I know what's wrong with your sister, and for your own safety, you shouldn't be near her."

Sumire swallowed her hesitation and nodded, standing from the couch and following him over the threshold to the next room, closing the screen door between them and Saki.

Kurama leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. "I understand that this isn't what you want to hear," he said. "But I have reason to believe that your sister is no longer alive."

Sumire stared up at him, feigning shock, and then disbelief. He must have bought it, because his expression became sympathetic.

"Cat apparitions typically imitate someone's form after they've eaten them," he said hesitantly. "And I believe that's what happened that day to Saki."

Sumire widened her eyes and breathed erratically. "That," she shook her head, "that doesn't make any sense. I...I would've known, I would've...Saki…." She covered her face with her hands, forcing herself to tremble. "That can't be…."

She hesitated a moment, and then threw herself at Kurama, clinging to the front of his shirt and burying her face in his chest. Though he initially flinched, he soon wrapped his arms around her and smoothed his hands along her shoulders, trying to soothe her.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

Sumire swallowed nervously, feeling her pupils changing, stretching into long slits. Her tail spiraled into existence beneath her yukata, snaking around one leg. Her claws, she felt certain, could manifest at any moment. The flesh of a human was soft; she could end his life in the blink of an eye. Would it be best to slit his throat? Sumire began to hyperventilate; could she really do this? Kurama had been so kind to her, even if it was only because he thought she was a human. If she did this, she was no better than Tamamo-no-Mae, no better than the kitsune who lured their prey in with false kindness. She thought she'd made peace with that, but with him right in front of her, she couldn't seem to move. Kurama was so strange for a fox, acting as though he was truly concerned for Saki's wellbeing as well as the sister Sumire had invented, and that didn't stop nagging at the back of her mind, making her wonder if he might be different than Tamamo-no-Mae claimed.

Of course, she thought, he must not be exactly as she said. Tamamo-no-Mae was a kitsune, and therefore a liar, but so was Kurama. He just hadn't shown the ugliness of his soul yet, the impurities that all kitsune possessed, and she still couldn't trust him. There wasn't anyone she could trust, not with Tamamo-no-Mae holding her village hostage and Spirit World's agents nipping at her heels. She was overwhelmed by a feeling of helplessness again.

"I'll be right back," Kurama said, slowly letting her go. "Let me call the others," and he passed by, turning his back on her.

Time seemed to stop.

She knew what she had to do. The answer was right in front of her. It could be over, all of it could be over, and she could go home and save her village. She extended a hand, flexing her fingers and bringing out her claws, but she stopped short of Kurama's back, her hand hanging in the air.

She couldn't. She couldn't kill him.

She felt tears rising to the surface and she let them come. She was in a terrible mess, and killing Kurama would not make it better. The power she'd gain from devouring him surely wouldn't be enough to stop Tamamo-no-Mae when the ancient fox must have eaten so many others. In the end, she would only bring down the wrath of Spirit World upon her village rather than Tamamo-no-Mae's.

She realized she had played right into Tamamo-no-Mae's hands by going on this fool's errand, putting her in an impossible situation where every decision was the wrong one. She was never expected to succeed—as Akemori had said, they did not consider her their equal. With the strongest of Two-Tails Village gone, the kitsune were free to do as they pleased. Sumire's hands rose to her face and she truly began to weep.

A soft voice asked, "Why didn't you do anything?"

Sumire's heart stopped. She slowly peeked through her fingers and found that Kurama had not yet turned around, but he hadn't opened the sliding door. Of course, he'd deceived her. He knew all along that it was her, and he'd waited for her to reveal herself. She felt foolish for having believed she ever had the upper hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered fearfully, taking a step away from him. "I-I'm sorry, please forgive me. Please let me live."

"Wait," she heard him say, and reached out to her, but Sumire only screeched. She let her disguise fall, quickly shifting into the form of a small cat and leaping out of the yukata that crumpled around her.

Nekomata did not have quite the reputation that kitsune did, but there were once stories told by frightened samurai about cat-eyed courtesans who seemed to enter and leave rooms without the door ever opening. Sumire jumped forward, time and space warping around her as she flitted through the wall, only to find Akemori waiting, standing in the middle of the room in his human form and glaring in disgust.

"He's here, Akemori!" she cried as the sliding door flew open and Kurama stepped into the room. The two kitsune locked eyes and froze, and the intensity of their energy sent Sumire scurrying behind Akemori.

"You haven't killed him yet," he said lowly.

"I did everything else you said!" Sumire insisted. "I told the detectives about walking with the human girl, and being her sister, and they believed me! Look, Kurama is here, and now you're here, you can finish this."

"Quiet," Akemori growled, turning to bare his fangs at her. "You are as inconsiderate as you are foolish if you thought waiting for me would be the answer to your problems. This was your job, not mine. This only proves that you're weak; you're of no use to us, and neither is your worthless village."

"No," Sumire whimpered. "You can't hurt them."

"You had your chance, but you couldn't go through with it because you're a coward. That's all you cats are is cowards. You were afraid of conforming to Spirit World's laws, so you ran away." Sumire shook her head, mewling, "I'm not! I'm not a coward."

"Then prove it," Akemori hissed, pointing at Kurama. "Kill him."

Kurama cleared his throat. "Akemori," he said, "this is unexpected. To think, this is the first time we've seen each other in centuries, and you have nothing to say to me."

The red fox glanced back at Kurama, eyes fiery with irritation. "Talking to you is pointless. Tamamo-no-Mae said you became Spirit World's dog, and it looks like she was right. We sent the bait, and you went running after it, just like they told you to."

Kurama's eyes found Sumire's, though she quickly looked away "She's bait," he said quietly. "I understand now. I wondered what a nekomata had to do with all this. I can't imagine you'd work with other apparitions willingly."

"We were hoping she'd amount to more than just bait," Akemori said, grabbing Sumire by the scruff of her neck and holding her over his head, ignoring her wriggling. "This is the strongest apparition in the whole village; can you believe it? Spirit World probably wouldn't even give her a rank, she's so weak."

"Put her down."

"Why? You're fond of cats now?"

"Akemori," Kurama said lowly, red rose in hand, "I will not ask again. You wanted me here, and I'm here. This is between us."

The red fox lowered Sumire but kept hold of her, eyes narrow in an appraising gaze. "I don't know what you see in them," he murmured. "You turned your back on us then, too. You chose outsiders, non-kitsune, over us. I've never understood it."

Sumire twisted her body and bit down on his hand, and Akemori yelped, throwing her at the wall. She changed in an instant, both feet landing on the wall and she dropped to the floor in the guise of a human clothed in a pale yukata, a face unlike Saki's with wide, amber eyes. She glared at Akemori, spitting his blood on the floor. Her forked tail flicked back and forth behind her in aggravation.

"Disgusting wretch," he growled, turning halfway to lash out at her until the rose whip wrapped around his wrist.

"Go, Shiori," Kurama ordered. "Take the human with you, and get somewhere safe."

Sumire frowned at the name but didn't correct him, going to Saki's side and gathering the unconscious girl in her arms. She glanced back at Kurama once, and then she turned to leave, opening the door that should have led to the hallway that now held a rippling void. Without hesitation, Sumire leapt through, and the door slid shut on its own behind her.

"You're siding with them again," Akemori hissed, fox ears flattening in anger on top of his head. "Fine. It's not as though I expected you to be loyal to your own kind." With a sharp tug that dug the thorns into his wrist, he tore his arm free from the rose whip and faced Kurama. "For what it's worth, I didn't want it to come to this," he said, tone softer.

"It doesn't have to," Kurama urged.

"It does. Spirit World does not deserve our forgiveness." Akemori's eyes narrowed. "And if you've sided with them, then neither do you."

* * *

Yusuke took one step into the inn and froze, every hair on the back of his neck standing up.

"You feel that?" Kuwabara muttered, clutching his own shoulders. "Something's not right here."

Hiei glanced towards the hall with the room that Shiori and Saki were staying in. "I don't sense Kurama."

As they approached the door, Botan reached forward, pressing her hand to the wood. She closed her eyes, concentrating. "I think I know why," she said quietly, but Yusuke was already at her side and winding up a punch. "Yusuke, hold on," she snapped, but ended up yelping and ducking out of the way as he broke the door down.

There was no one inside.

"I said hold on!" Botan cried. "A demon has created a barrier to erect a parallel space of this room, which will prevent us from—!"

"Start over," Yusuke interrupted, "Layman's terms."

Botan took a deep breath. "You've dealt with this before," she began again, "Certain apparitions are capable of manipulating space and time, creating parallel spaces that lie between worlds. There's an exact copy of this room, sealed off from us."

Yusuke frowned. "I don't think Kurama could do stuff like that."

A shimmering light appeared in the corner of the room, and with a flash, a stranger leapt out of thin air, holding Saki in her arms. The former detectives immediately saw the cat ears on her head and her forked tail and didn't waste a second, cornering her in the room and blocking the doorway.

"Wait!" she exclaimed, setting Saki down and putting her clawed hands up in surrender. "Wait, I'm—I'm not who you want."

"We've been looking for a cat apparition for a while now," Yusuke growled, "And you seem to fit the bill." He raised a hand, spirit energy rushing through his body and collecting at his fingertip, and the apparition began to panic.

"Your friend is in danger!"

Yusuke didn't back down. "Keep talking."

"He's fighting," the apparition said nervously, beginning to babble. "In the other space. I sealed off the room, but Akemori still found me, and now they're fighting. I'm sure your friend is very strong since he's a kitsune, but so is Akemori."

"Slow down," Hiei said sharply. "Start from the beginning. Who are you, and why are you here?"

The apparition took a deep breath. "My name is Sumire," she said, looking down at Saki guiltily. "I'm a nekomata from Two-Tails Village. I'm here because I have no other choice. Tamamo-no-Mae will devour everyone in my village if I don't do as she asks, and she demanded Kurama's life."

Hiei was the first to relax, sheathing his sword. "She's harmless."

Yusuke glanced at him in disbelief. "How can you be sure?"

"I smell Kurama on her, but not his blood." His eyes went to the unconscious human on the floor. "And the girl is still alive. She assumed her form but didn't eat her."

The nekomata looked down at her feet. "I was going to," she admits. "But then I thought that using her to lure you in would be better. I had to take care of her because my magic made her sick, and in the end…."

"You got attached," Hiei scoffed. "Sounds like someone else I know."

No longer sensing a threat, Sumire lowered her hands to her sides and looked carefully at each of the detectives. "I need to go back," she said. "I want to help him."

"Great," Yusuke said with a nod. "Take us with."

The nekomata hesitated, but before she could answer, Hiei spoke up in her stead. "Go on. We'll wait," prompting his teammates to turn on him.

"What is with you today?" Kuwabara asked. "First we're trusting some random demon and now we're leaving Kurama alone?"

Hiei met Sumire's gaze as she backed away from him, phasing right through the wall that rippled as she vanished through it and back into the parallel space. "Kurama, his opponent and the nekomata," he said, "are all relics from a different time. Whatever's happening, we'd only get in the way."

* * *

Once, long ago and far away in the Garden of the Flowering Quince, there was a red fox who returned from a long journey with her mate to give birth to a litter of kits in the shadow of a hydrangea bush. "You were born under the hydrangea, which symbolizes pride," she said, "and so I hope that you will always be proud of your power and accomplishments." The curling, lavender blossoms in full bloom around her became their guidepost, the flower of their home and their destiny.

The youngest of those kits stands before Kurama now; Akemori, child of the hydrangea, tall and proud in his blood red robes, orange tail swaying behind him. "I will not try to change your mind," he said with a scowl. "You were always so sure of yourself, even when you were wrong."

Kurama chuckled. "I wasn't often wrong."

With a flick of his wrist, Akemori's energy filled the room and brought it alive with thick foliage, Demon World plants that heaved and shook, coiling vines and climbing ivy. "It's a shame," Akemori said, stretching out his arm and letting one of the thorned vines curl carefully around it, forming a blade affixed to his limb, "Your energy is so weak now, so similar to a human's. What have you been doing in this world?"

"Protecting it," Kurama answered, watching the red fox's every movement carefully.

The grasses and shrubs Akemori had summoned were harmless and merely for camouflage, but Kurama knew he'd hidden more dangerous things in the room. He mirrored Akemori's slow pacing cautiously, mindful of where he stepped. "It's funny," Kurama said. "I can't help but be reminded of playing in the forests by the Garden as a kit. Do you remember when all four of us would go together and we would practice making plants grow?" He spied a bright red vine in the grass—Demon Spider Fungus that latched onto prey with barbed-covered and venom-filled tendrils—and carefully stepped around it.

"Of course I remember," Akemori said softly. "I was always the worst at it, but you never teased me. You said I'd get better someday. I knew it didn't matter. I'd never be as good as you were."

The room seemed to be getting hotter; Kurama could feel Akemori's energy coming in waves, gently reshaping the separate space they'd created and widening it. They were still again, staring each other down from across the room; Kurama assumed the other fox knew better than to get too close to him and was setting a trap of some sort.

("Got you again!" Kurama exclaimed, doubling over and clutching his stomach as he laughed. Akemori dangled upside down from a tree, his ankle caught in a knot of vines that had rested open and waiting beside where Kurama stood.

"That's not fair!" he'd howled. "You always cheat! How am I supposed to tag you if you never let me get close?"

"It's not cheating," Kurama said indignantly. "I'm just using every resource available to me.")

The memory came unbidden, and Kurama felt pain in his heart. He wondered if Akemori might be remembering something similar, because his expression softened and he lowered his voice when he asked, "Do you remember when we first met her?"

Kurama kept a firm grip on the rose whip, anticipating an attack. "I'll never forget it," he said quietly, "That was right after the First Hunt's end. We didn't realize the danger, and our parents didn't know how to tell us, so we ignored them and snuck out after dark." He chuckled bitterly. "And there she was, at the edge of our Garden, because hers had been reduced to ash, covered in the blood of her mother and father."

"Victims of the Hunt," Akemori said with conviction. "Senseless bloodshed caused by Spirit World. And yet here you stand, fighting on their fool king's behalf." His eyes narrowed. "But somehow, I always knew it would come to this."

("But how?" Akemori had demanded, "How do you always know just where I'm going to step? How do you always know what I'll do?"

Kurama wiped a tear from his eye and his laughter died down, but he couldn't help another snicker at Akemori pouting with his tail swishing impatiently. "Because you're my best friend, Akemori," he'd said. "And I know you too well.")

Kurama's only warning was a tremor below his feet before an enormous blood-red flower bloomed behind him, tendrils wrapping around his limbs and dragging him in towards the steaming cluster of jagged teeth at its center. His eyes widened and he immediately fought to free himself, but the plant's grip only strengthened the harder he pulled.

"Akemori," he growled, but whatever else he meant to say fled his mind at the pain that radiated through him from his stomach. His gaze moved from the spear of vines embedded in his abdomen up to Akemori's cold eyes that loomed over him.

"I waited," the red fox muttered, "for you to come back to us. I waited because I was the only one who believed you would. I was a fool." He twisted his wrist, turning the thorns in Kurama's belly and making him wince. "But I've finally beaten you at something."

Suddenly, a figure darted out of the underbrush behind Akemori and leapt onto him, and the vine spear broke apart as he lost concentration, stumbling away and struggling against the weight on his back. Kurama used each precious second the distraction brought to shake a seed tucked behind his ear loose, a leftover from the ones he'd grown for Saki. It landed in the soil and let out a small shockwave, sucking the energy out of Akemori's plant and leaving shriveled leaves and browning grass in its wake. The petals wilted and the vines around him weakened, allowing him to pull free and clutch at his bloodied stomach.

The human form of the nekomata wrapped around Akemori from behind, claws sinking into his shoulders as he thrashed about to knock her loose. "You," Akemori roared. "You worthless traitor!" He yelped in pain when she sank her sharp teeth into his shoulder, finally managing to dislodge her and watching with furious eyes as she tumbled to the ground.

Kurama crept closer and saw a symbol in Akemori's flesh where she had bitten him, a circle ringed with four leaves; boundary magic of some sort, he realized, the nekomata's specialty. When Akemori reached for her, his arm froze in mid-air between them and his eyes went wide. She slowly rose to her feet and locked eyes with him, licking his blood from her lips. A dim blue glow like ghost fire over the ocean rose from the ground around the red fox, delineating the barrier she'd placed around him, holding him immobile. The plants at his feet began to wither and die.

"The killing blow is yours," she said to Kurama, backing away to give him room, and he was both incensed and not at all surprised; she truly was from the old world.

"Coward," Akemori hissed. "I knew you were spineless, but this…!"

Kurama stepped in front of Akemori, unable to bring himself to stab him in the back. "I'm sorry, old friend," he said quietly, wrapping the rose whip around his throat. "I didn't want this. I hope you understand."

The red fox trembled. "I understand," he rasped. "You chose them. And I will never forgive you for that."

And then Kurama pulled until he heard a snap.

He had to look away when Akemori's limp body crumpled to the ground, leaving him feeling emptier than before, but he had no time to mourn. The nekomata drew closer, gently rolling his still-warm body onto its back, claws hovering over the kitsune's abdomen. Kurama panicked, hand shooting forward to grip her wrist.

She stared up at him in surprise. "I-I was just…."

"I know what you intend to do," he said. "You want to eat him."

She did not look away meekly as he expected, but stared up into his eyes defiantly. This face was not the one she had borrowed from the human girl, but her own, and its features were sharper and more fitting for a cat demon. Even through her obvious anxiety, Kurama saw fierceness in her eyes. "I have to do this," she said. "Tamamo-no-Mae is powerful, but if I can become just a little bit stronger…."

"Tamamo-no-Mae has devoured countless apparitions. A single fox won't be enough."

The cat's eyes burned with fury. "Then I will eat more, until I'm a match for her. I won't give up."

"What you're doing is foolish. There are better ways to—!"

"You could never understand!" she hissed, and though she had the face of a human Kurama saw a cat everywhere he looked, from the tense arching of her back to the snarl at her lips, fangs exposed in the corners of her mouth. "You're a fox, the cleverest and most talented of the shapeshifters. You don't know what it's like to be helpless, how terrible it feels when you can't do anything."

"I do know," Kurama growled, something old and territorial coming alive inside of him for the first time in centuries. "I know exactly what it feels like. I've been powerless in the face of overwhelming odds before, just like you."

"And what did you do?" the nekomata demanded. "How did you try to become stronger?"

Kurama opened his mouth to speak but all he could think of was a rainy evening in another life when a silver fox child clung to him and cried into his chest as they both hid in the hollowed base of a redwood tree. He thought of that, and then he thought of the taste of demon flesh, the way the blood of apparitions slid down the throat and the warmth another's essence brought as it welled up inside. The hurt and the fear in the nekomata's eyes was something he had seen and felt before, and he knew he had no right to tell her that he had known better.

"You can't eat him," he said instead. "He was my friend."

Her eyes softened a bit and she looked down at the body. Kurama couldn't bring himself to follow her gaze but relinquished his grip on her wrist. It was a sentimental excuse; they had not been friends for many centuries, and they could not be now that he was dead, but Kurama still felt he owed Akemori a dignified death, at the very least. He deserved to rest undisturbed.

"Then," the nekomata said, voice gone small and timid, "what am I supposed to do?"

Kurama turned to her and reached out, intending to put a hand on her shoulder in reassurance, but she flinched and moved away, standing upright with her ears flat on either side of her head.

 _That's right,_ he realized, _now that we're no longer fighting a common enemy, we are no longer allies._

 _I am a fox and she must fear me._

* * *

Sumire felt she still had much to learn about the Living World and its inhabitants.

"You took your time, fox," said the shorter apparition, and she knew they must have understood what Kurama truly was beneath his human guise. She didn't know why they still rushed to his side, then, why they clustered so close and looked so worried.

"So?" the dark-haired human with an odd smell urged, "what happened?"

Kurama looked at the floor. "It's over."

"Sorry, man. I guess you two probably knew each other?"

"We did, but this is for the best. This meeting was inevitable, and I'm just thankful it's over."

"Well, now what?" the other human asked, gaze trailing over to Sumire, who stubbornly turned away from the detectives. In the form of a small cat, she padded across the floor to Saki, the flush of fever on her cheeks fading away, and licked her face. _I'm sorry,_ she thought. _I'm sorry for hurting you, and putting you in danger._ She heard the others talking, trying to keep their voices quiet though she heard every word. They made plans for the coming days, to talk to important people and leave for Demon World where they hoped to stop Tamamo-no-Mae once and for all. She was just beginning to realize how tired she was, eyelids fluttering shut, when she heard one of them come closer and a shadow fell across her. She didn't need to look to recognize Kurama's distinctive energy.

For a while, he didn't say a word, settling onto his knees on the floor nearby. "I want to tell you that you have nothing to fear from me," he said at last, "But I don't think you'd believe that. Cats have always feared foxes."

 _For good reason,_ Sumire thought bitterly.

"I know that you're wary of me," he continued. "And I don't expect you to trust me right now. But I want you to know that I respect you. You've conducted yourself admirably today."

"Thank you," she said softly.

They fell into silence for a moment. An owl hooted outside somewhere and Sumire looked in the direction of the sound, though she never felt Kurama's gaze move from her.

"You intend to return to your village, don't you?" he asked.

She glanced back at him warily. "Of course I do."

"You shouldn't go alone."

"Then I should go with all of you?"

"With me," he corrected. "I'll help however I can. We plan to leave in a day or so, though I intend to split off from them. This is a deeply personal matter, and I don't think they fully understand that."

Sumire was silent, mulling over his words. She rose to her feet and sat upright, tail restlessly whipping back and forth on the floor behind her. "Why are you making such an offer?" she asked.

Kurama held her gaze. "Because you're kind," he said softly. "And I don't want you to get hurt."

"I am kind at times," Sumire allowed. "But this is not the time for kindness. I won't falter when I next see Tamamo-no-Mae."

Kurama suddenly rested a hand on her head and Sumire tensed, though gradually relaxed when he began to stroke her ears. She'd never considered it before, but now that she thought about it, it made sense that foxes, too, would enjoy physical affection and nuzzling, and the tension slowly left her body as he smoothed his hand along her back. "There are not many apparitions like us," he said, and though he still looked at her, Sumire thought he must be thinking of someone else. "But perhaps we have always been few. The old world should never have made apparitions with such soft hearts, yet here we are."

"You think yourself soft at heart?" Sumire asked curiously.

The smile she saw on Kurama's face was full of sadness. "If I was not," he said, "then none of us would be in this mess now."

* * *

 **I'm going to be participating in NaNoWriMo this year so this story will be on hold until the end of November.**


	6. The Ephemeral World

Saki woke to the sound of the door opening and felt as though she'd just woken from a long dream.

"How are you feeling this morning?" one of the innkeepers asked, a middle-aged woman in a flower-patterned yukata who laid tea and breakfast on the table.

"I'm alright," she said, propping herself up on her arms before she moved to sit up. "A little tired, but not bad."

"So your fever's finally cleared up?"

Saki hesitated to answer. Fever? That seemed right. She couldn't quite remember what had happened the last few days, just that she'd gone hiking before that. "Yeah, guess so."

"I kept asking your friend if she wanted help taking you to a doctor, or if I should arrange a house call," the innkeeper went on absently. "But she insisted on seeing to your care herself."

"My...?" Saki set the teacup down, glancing at the woman curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Your friend," the innkeeper repeated. "The young lady who checked you both in. I thought she had to be your twin, since you looked so much alike, though I suppose I didn't really get a good look at her until she checked out this morning."

Saki frowned. She was almost certain she hadn't left home with anyone else, but maybe this was also a result of the fever. "Sorry, I must still be out of it. What was her name?"

"Shiori Futabi, I believe. She and her friends paid for the room for another night, if you'd like to use it. Your parents called and said they'd be in town tonight." Saki nodded numbly and began on her breakfast. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No," Saki said. "That's all, thank you." The innkeeper bowed and left the room.

She ate in silence, trying desperately to recall anything at all from the last few days. She thought she could remember being startled by something when hiking through the mountains, maybe falling and scratching her knees, but after that, nothing was clear. She was only certain that she didn't know anyone by the name the innkeeper had told her.

She thought she remembered a vivid dream in which she felt heavy and feverish, and a little black cat trotted over and licked her cheek. For whatever reason, she felt as though it was trying to apologize.

* * *

"This is suicide," Genkai said plainly, sitting cross-legged on the floor as she glared at Koenma and the former detectives across from her. The temple doors behind them were open to let in the occasional breeze, and to let the black cat sitting on the veranda watch the conversation. Genkai had purposefully removed any protective charms in the room and invited her inside, but she'd refused to budge and instead chose to lay on her side in the sun, tail twitching nervously whenever someone moved.

"As usual, we've got your vote of confidence," Yusuke rolled his eyes. "You got a better idea?"

"Yeah, I do. Let someone else handle it. This isn't your problem."

"Tamamo-no-Mae is everyone's problem," Koenma insisted, but swallowed his next words when Genkai's sharp gaze was fixed on him.

"She's _your_ problem," she said. "Spirit World decimated the kitsune population and paved the way for monsters like her to exist. That kind of bitterness and anger doesn't come from nowhere."

The ruler of spirit world rose to his feet, enraged. "So what are you saying? We let her do as she pleases, continue gaining territory and followers until she decides she's got nothing to fear and nothing to lose?"

"She already has nothing to lose," Kurama interjected. "The Hunts took everything away."

Koenma shot him a withering look.

"Your father worked hard to ignore the damage he did," Genkai continued, more softly this time. "Though the blame does not fall with you personally, you did inherit his problems. This is the kind of thing the Spirit Defense Force should handle. Enki has already begun mobilizing an army, and if you coordinate with him, you might have the power necessary to end this."

"I intended to work with Enki," Koenma muttered.

"You also intended to send these idiots into the fray," the aging martial artist said, gesturing vaguely at the former detectives. "They've come through for you before, but this isn't like Toguro or the former kings."

"Don't start this now, grandma," Yusuke groaned. "You can let us go without a lecture just this once, can't you? I think we know how to take care of ourselves by now."

The old woman glowered at him. "You're only so invested in this because you're always looking for a fight, Yusuke, but this isn't the kind of enemy you just run in and fight. If you still think that, then Koenma's failed to impress upon you just how dangerous Tamamo-no-Mae is."

The former spirit detective glanced at Koenma, brow raised. "Fine then. Impress upon me, if you'd be so kind."

"I'd appreciate a bit less sass, Yusuke," Koenma said stiffly. "There's little about your opponent that isn't to be feared, but you should be especially concerned about her ability to use Spirit Fire."

"Isn't that just like what Hiei can do?"

Hiei shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "I have no need for something like that."

"Spirit Fire is an old magic dating back to Demon World's dark ages," Koenma elaborated at Yusuke's confused expression. "It's a power that has little practical application outside of times of war. It burns life energy and decimates cities, only stopping when there is nothing left alive to feed on."

"Only a handful of beings have ever been documented to possess it," Kurama added. "One of whom was paid a great sum by Spirit World to raze several kitsune Gardens."

Koenma frowned. "He vanished many centuries ago, though I've heard a rumor that he was devoured by other demons."

Kurama didn't break his gaze. "You've heard correctly."

"Koenma," Genkai interjected, "you've brought the detectives back together, and I'd say your involvement in Living World ends here. You should organize the SDF and begin hunting for Tamamo-no-Mae. Kurama, you're obviously going to get dragged into this with the rest of them, so now's a good time to come clean about anything you don't want getting dragged out later." Kurama frowned, looking ready to argue, but Genkai cut him off, asking, "And what about you?" as she looked straight through the assembled detectives and at the black cat on the porch.

Sumire quickly sat up straight, curling her tail around the front of her body. "I want to go home," she said. "Tamamo-no-Mae may have moved on from my village but there will certainly still be a kitsune there to keep watch."

"I'll accompany her," Kurama offered. "It's best we split up to cover more ground. Yusuke and Kuwabara can go to Tourin, and Hiei can go to Alaric. I'll make my way to Gandara after passing through Two-Tails Village."

Sumire looked at him with an unreadable expression but said nothing.

"I don't agree," Hiei said.

Kurama glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "On emotional or practical grounds?"

"Maybe both," the fire apparition hissed. "You have a history of not being especially forthcoming with your motives, so forgive me for doubting your honesty."

"I'm being perfectly honest."

"Kurama, he's got a point," Yusuke said hesitantly. "Not to mention, you have a bad habit of being way too nice to the bad guys. You and Tamamo have a history, right?"

Kurama narrowed his eyes. "Are you insinuating that I'm going to let her go?"

"Look, I'm just saying—!"

"After everything she's done?" Kurama asked, raising his voice. "After she's pitted me against the very foxes I grew up with, the only apparitions in this entire, wretched world who have any idea what it's like to be feared and hated and lose absolutely everything just because you were born?"

"The only ones?" Hiei asked darkly, getting to his feet. "What have you been doing with us this entire time, then, if we misunderstood you so much? Why didn't you go back to them centuries ago?"

In the blink of an eye, Genkai was between them, one hand clutching Hiei's wrist as he reached for his sword, the other blocking Kurama's hand, a thorn-covered vine sticking out from beneath his sleeve.

"That's enough!" she shouted, and let out a burst of energy that made them both stumble away from one another. "I've had it with all of you. Stop bickering with each other like children and go do something productive, like, oh, I don't know, getting rid of the biggest threat to existence in the last several centuries." She sat back down, glaring at the backs of Koenma and the former detectives as they left, Sumire darting between their feet. "And Kurama's right," she called after them. "You should split up. If you tried working together now, you'd probably kill each other."

Koenma was the first to leave, muttering he'd go take care of things on his end, and Hiei took off without a word not long after. Yusuke and Kuwabara looked torn about whether to stay or go, and Kurama took a deep breath before facing them. His words failed him when he met Yusuke's eyes and saw the former detective was apprehensive, maybe even nervous. None of them trusted him anymore, he was sure of it.

"When are you planning on leaving?" Yusuke asked.

"Tomorrow, early," Kurama said. "I'd leave immediately, but I'd like to spend some time with my family. You should at least stop in to see your mother, Yusuke, I'm sure she'd appreciate it." _You might not see her again._ Kurama stopped himself from saying it aloud.

"Yeah," Yusuke shrugged. "Guess I can wait until tomorrow, too, if you want to leave at the same time."

"Not especially, no," Kurama admitted. "Leave whenever you'd like. We'll reconvene in Demon World after we have a better understanding of the situation. I'm sure we'll find track of each other again; we always do."

Yusuke didn't look happy about it, but eventually he nodded and began to walk away. Kuwabara however, lingered a moment. "Hey," he said gently. "I'm sorry about...well, everything. You've been through a lot, man. I know you probably don't wanna talk to us about it, but we'll definitely be here for you."

Kurama nodded. "Thank you, Kuwabara. I really do appreciate it."

Kuwabara nodded back, and finally, Kurama was alone. He was startled, realizing that he shouldn't be, but Sumire was gone, having crept away sometime during the conversation. He debated tracking her down but decided it wasn't worth the time or effort; if she'd chosen to ignore his warning and gone back alone, he wasn't going to try to stop her. He was done trying to save everyone, or as Yusuke had eloquently put it before, being "way too nice."

That was why he was where he was now, wrestling with the mad dreams of someone he should have killed when he had the chance.

* * *

The scent of grilled yellowtail, steamed rice and miso soup wafted through the hall when Kurama came home, and he found his mother in the kitchen preparing food. "Shuuichi," she greeted warmly, turning off the stove to give him a hug. "Welcome home. Are you hungry?"

"I am," he said smiling, though he glanced back. "I didn't see any other shoes in the doorway. Is Father not home yet?"

"No, he said he might stay late at the office tonight."

"And Kokoda?"

"Your brother's spending the night at a friend's, but he'll be back tomorrow."

"I see."

Her smile faltered. "Are you alright, Shuuichi? You look a bit upset."

"I'm fine," he said. "I hate to spring this on you without any warning, but I'm going to be out of town for a bit with some friends. We're leaving early tomorrow."

"Oh," she sighed. "I'm sorry, dear. I'm sure you wanted to see everyone before you left. If I'd known, I would have asked them to be here."

"No, this is alright," Kurama said quickly. "Really, I don't mind. It isn't as though I'm not coming back." The words were out before he could stop them, but he wanted so badly to get rid of the worry on his mother's face that it just slipped out. It did the trick; she smiled and began filling a plate for him, and Kurama took a seat at the table in the next room.

He certainly wasn't lying about the first part, though; he really did prefer it this way. He had nothing against the family he acquired after his mother's remarriage, but they were newer in his life and there was less shared history between them than with his mother. She knew more and understood better than they did.

The parallels between himself, the kitsune and the former detectives came to mind and left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I planted something new this afternoon," she said proudly, "They were giving away those little seed assortment bags at the store today. I actually don't know what color they're supposed to be, but that's even better; we'll have a nice surprise in a few months."

"Roses?" Kurama guessed.

His mother smiled. "You know me too well. I should really get something else for a little variety, shouldn't I?"

He shook his head. "No. You should plant what you like, and there's nothing wrong with roses."

"I have a friend who's into that whole 'language of flowers' thing," she said. "Sometimes we get seeds together, and she has the funniest things to say. We were looking at lilies and she vehemently refused to buy orange ones because they have an unpleasant meaning. But hydrangeas, she said, are good flowers for a beautiful garden."

Kurama fumbled with his chopsticks and loses a few piece of rice. "Hydrangeas mean pride," he said quietly. "They are fine flowers."

His mother paused, looking across the table at him. "Oh, you're familiar with that, too?" she asked. "What do roses mean?"

Kurama tried to meet her eyes, but in failing that, he hesitated to answer so his voice didn't tremble. "Love."

"Love?" his mother repeated. "That's what I would expect, I suppose. I've been told there are flowers that mean 'devotion' and 'wealth' and things like that, but love for roses seems almost too simple."

"Deceptively simple," Kurama nodded. "Roses seem like very straightforward flowers, but they're actually tricksters. They're beautiful until you get close enough to notice the thorns." He looked up when he heard only silence, and laughed. "Sorry, I guess I'm feeling a bit poetic this evening."

"Oh, that's alright," his mother said. "But I don't think roses mean to trick people. I think, if they could, they'd rather warn everyone about their thorns so they don't get hurt. And people who know enough about roses know better than to just grasp the stem carelessly." She looked up at him, smiling. "I think roses are straightforward flowers to those who care about them."

There was a light patter on the roof and the windows, the beginning of a light drizzle. Kurama blinked in surprise and his mother chuckled. "I guess I'm feeling a bit poetic myself," she said. "But really I just wanted to defend my plants. I love roses too much for you to speak ill of them."

Kurama smiled appreciatively. "I should have known better than to say such things with you around, I suppose."

"But back to this trip," his mother said playfully. "It's with the usual suspects, I'm assuming. They're a good bunch. I'm glad you all look out for each other." She was referring to the "hiking trip" they took several years ago, which was the best Yusuke could come up with when he'd gone back home with Kurama after the Dark Tournament and said, "Yo, Ms. Minamino, sorry your son's got a few cuts and bruises and a bit of a limp, but we were just, uh, hiking, you know? And he fell. Really hard and really far," and despite how worried she'd been, his mother had been relieved to have him home. She told Kurama later, "You know, that Yusuke looks a bit rough, but he seems like a good friend. I bet he'd take a bullet for you," and Kurama had laughed weakly and thought, " _You have no idea_."

"So where are you off to this time?" she asked curiously. "You haven't been to Kamikouchi yet, have you? The scenery there is supposed to be absolutely stunning. You should bring a camera this time."

"I probably shouldn't say," Kurama said with a mischievous smile. "Yusuke is worried if we tell people where we hike, everyone will start going there. We like having the place to ourselves. I'll try to bring back some pictures, though."

The soft patter of rain on the roof gradually grew to a dull roar, and his mother stood from the table to glance out the window. "It's really coming down now," she said absently. "I'm glad you aren't leaving today. Hopefully it clears up by tomorrow."

"Ah. Hopefully."

"Oh, shoot," she gasped. "I think I forgot to put the wheelbarrow back in the shed."

Kurama was already on his feet and halfway out of the kitchen. "I'll take care of it," he called back over his shoulder.

Thunder boomed in the clouds and Kurama carefully angled his umbrella so it wouldn't get blown inside out by the wind. He found the wheelbarrow laying on its side in his mother's garden and walked it back towards the garden shed, pulling the sliding door open and pausing when he felt demonic energy. Two eyes peered out of the dark at him, wide and amber, the pupils narrow slits.

"Sumire?" he asked. He brought the wheelbarrow inside and shut the door, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. Her fur was matted into wet clumps along her back and she was shivering, whiskers twitching anxiously as she sat against the far wall. "What are you doing here?"

"I won't be long," she said nervously. "Just until the rain stops, I promise."

He crouched down, extending a hand, but she lurched out of his reach and into the corner. "I thought you left for Demon World already," he said. "But you hid instead, and then you followed my scent, didn't you?"

She looked away guiltily.

"You could've asked. I would have let you come along."

"I didn't intend to stay with you," she said. "It's just...this isn't my home. It's not a familiar place, and I…." She stopped and took a shuddering breath. "Akemori was wrong about me. I'm not a coward. But I..."

"You don't want to be alone right now," Kurama supplied. "That doesn't make you a coward. A lot has changed for you in the last few days. I understand." A loud crash of thunder shook the walls of the shed and Sumire jumped. "Why don't you come inside?" he offered. "My mother is home, so you won't be able to shift out of that form, but it's better than being out here."

The cat glanced up at him in disbelief. "Your mother?"

"Yes, my mother," Kurama repeated in irritation, though he understood a moment later. "Don't worry, she isn't a kitsune."

"Then what is she?"

"Human." Sumire looked even more uneasy, but he forged on anyway. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it by now. I want to help you; that's why I'm going to your village with you."

"You're coming along because you need to go anyway," she corrected. "Because you know there's another kitsune there."

"Would you rather fight alone?" Kurama watched her little mouth twist into something like a pout and extended a hand. "We're going to need our rest tonight so we're ready to make the journey in the morning," he tried.

Hesitantly, Sumire pawed over to him, letting out a startled cry when he lifted her with one hand and rearranged her so he could hold her with one arm. She was tense, the claws of one paw digging into his skin, though Kurama paid it no mind. "Keep your tails close together, if you can," he reminded her. "Cats in this world tend to only have one."

When he went back inside and put his umbrella away, his mother gasped. "Poor thing!" she cried. "Was it in the garden shed?"

"Yes," Kurama said. "It was a bit scared of me at first, but I think it's warmed up to me."

Sumire said nothing and continued to cling to him, eyes comically wide as his mother began to pet her.

Kurama edged towards the stairs, keeping a firm grip on the cat and trying to get to his room. "I'll take it to the shelter on my way out tomorrow," he promised.

He set Sumire down on the ground in his room and shut the door, finally relaxing with a sigh. Sumire kneaded the carpet floor with her claws, looking perplexed by it, and it occurred to Kurama that she'd been living in some remote village of Demon World her entire life; even the inn in the old mountain town must have seemed strange in comparison. "It's nice, isn't it?" he asked. "Softer than a stone or tatami floor."

Sumire glanced up at him, continuing to push her paws on the carpet. "It's different," she allowed. but she looked like she was enjoying herself, "You like humans a lot, don't you?"

Kurama slid from his bed to the floor, sitting with his legs crossed, and Sumire came over to him curiously, sniffing his clothes. "Yes, I do," he said, and she flinched when he scratched under her chin but didn't move away.

"Tamamo-no-Mae said she liked humans, too, but I thought she was lying."

Kurama's hand stilled for a moment and Sumire looked up at him. "She might have been," he said. "But it's also possible that she was telling the truth."

There was a knock on the door and Sumire whipped around, pushing herself back against Kurama as his mother entered the room. She smiled at the sight of the cat next to her son and laid a dish filled with water on the floor. "I wondered if our guest might be thirsty," she said with a smile.

Kurama thanked her as she left, shutting the door again, and Sumire cautiously crept over to the dish. She took a tentative sip, paused, and then began to drink in earnest. Kurama chuckled and went to his desk, looking for a book to unwind with before he went to bed, when he heard her stop lapping at the milk suddenly.

"I like humans, too," he heard the cat say softly.

Kurama glanced down at her. "Her name is Shiori, you know."

"Is it really?"

"Yes. Funny coincidence that you picked that as an alias." It probably didn't seem that way to her, Kurama thought; in the world they both came from, something like that would be considered auspicious, a sign of some sort.

Regardless, Sumire didn't comment on it, choosing something a bit more uncomfortable to discuss. "Kurama," she said, apparently done with the water as she jumped up onto his bed to be closer to eye-level. "How do you know Tamamo-no-Mae?"

He took a deep breath. "That's a long story that we don't have time for now. We should really get some sleep."

He bent to retrieve the bowl and set it on the table, the water inside reduced to a tiny puddle in the bottom, and went to turn off the light. Sumire's eyes glinted in the dark as she sat upright on his bed, watching him carefully. "You don't trust me," she said.

Kurama held her gaze. "Nor do you trust me."

"You are a fox."

Kurama approached the bed slowly but Sumire held her ground. She looked confused when he finally sat down, leaning against the headboard and leaving a respectful amount of space between them. "It's a long way to the Lost Country. We'll have plenty of time to talk on the road."

Sumire blinked. "The Lost Country?"

"Your home."

"You call it the Lost Country?" she asked incredulously. "That's a terrible name! It's the rest of Demon World that's lost, not us." Sumire's mouth opened wide in a silent yawn and she laid back down, getting comfortable. "Fine, then, tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Kurama nodded, glancing out the window. The moon was full, large and round in the sky, the silver color reminding him of his first mother's fur.

He remembered resting in the garden, leaning back against her chest as she gently unknotted his matted hair. "You're filthy, Kurama," she chided. "And you were gone for so long. Where did you and the other kits run off to? You know you mustn't stray too far, it's dangerous."

"It wasn't that far away," he insisted. "Akemori said there are cats near here. I've never seen a cat before."

"Ah," his mother nodded. "I have heard of nekomata passing through this part of the forest. But you should not bother them."

"Why? We're much stronger than them."

"Perhaps," she said. "But you mustn't think of every creature you meet in terms of strength. We kitsune are so powerful that sometimes we look down on our fellow apparitions with whom we share this world, but we have no reason to." When her hands left his hair, Kurama turned to look up at her, and he found her smiling softly as she gazed into the distance, at sunlight as it streamed through the forest canopy. "You must treat every being you meet with dignity and compassion, Kurama."

"But Akemori is always picking on tanuki," Kurama insisted. "And they don't really seem to mind."

"You are not Akemori," his mother said sternly. "I want you to decide for yourself how to treat other apparitions." She began to stroke his hair gently. "You are a child of the rose, Kurama. My wish for you was one of love. I hope that you meet many different creatures in your life and that you prove to them that we foxes are not truly so fearsome. That we are capable of love."

At the time, Kurama hadn't understood what she was talking about or why it mattered so much. But when the Hunt came to his home and his Garden burned before his eyes, fueled by flames of fear and misunderstanding, he began to see what she had meant.


	7. The Road to the Lost Land

In the early morning when light like liquid fire began to pour over the horizon, Kurama was jarred from a dreamless sleep by the approach of something powerful, bursts of energy that steadily drew closer. He was on his feet in an instant, glancing down at the foot of the bed where Sumire was curled up before, but she, too, was bristling at the sensation of an intruder and eyeing Kurama warily.

"It isn't a friend," he told her, and her eyes widened as she leapt from the bed, landing muffled by the carpet, and slunk behind his legs, peering around at the window timidly. He glanced back at her with a brow raised as he leaned forward to draw back the blinds. "Didn't you insist just the other night that you weren't a coward?" he couldn't help but tease.

Sumire glared up at him, ears flat against her head. "I'm not," she insisted. "But if you are afraid, then I am afraid."

"I'm not afraid. I'm just being careful."

A point of light on the horizon slowly grew larger, the twinkling becoming waves of power rolling off of a humanoid form. Kurama glanced down warily into his backyard as one of the members of the Spirit Defense Force slowed to a stop mid-flight, landing with a rush of wind in the grass. It was a woman, a ribbon around her forehead tying back a mop of blond curls. He recognized her from several years ago, that last fateful trip to Demon World that ended in the first major shift of power he'd seen in hundreds of years.

The woman glanced up at the window and gestured for Kurama to come downstairs. He stepped back from the blinds.

"What is it?" Sumire asked timidly as he stepped over her.

He smiled tersely. "It seems someone would like to have a word with us."

* * *

Sumire did not falter as Kurama expected when they came outside, slipping out the back door ahead of him and hurrying down the porch steps, walking a pace ahead. He assumed she'd never seen the Spirit Defense Force before and didn't recognize the uniform, or she may have crept behind him instead.

"Kurama," the operative greeted with a nod.

He returned it. Apparently they were going to pretend to be on good terms. "Pardon, I don't recall your name."

"Ryouhi, and that's alright. Our first meeting was brief." She glanced down pointedly at the black cat that stood in the grass. "This must be the cat apparition behind the incident with the human girl."  
Sumire stared hard at the woman and refused to speak.

"Yes," Kurama said. "She's from the Lost Country."

Ryouhi's expression grew concerned, but she nodded and turned her attention to Kurama instead. "I've come to inform you of the situation, and urge that you delay your departure no longer," she explained. "Tamamo-no-Mae has gone on the offensive, staging attacks on major population centers of Demon World. She was last seen heading to Alaric with a small army."

"A small army?" Kurama repeated questioningly.

"A fighting force of several hundred, by our estimates," Ryouhi elaborated. "They come almost exclusively from the Lost Country."

"Which means they have no files in Spirit World."

She nodded. "We're fighting blind," she said. "We've already had to fall back and evacuate several cities on the perimeter. Our concern now is that Tamamo-no-Mae intends to push into the interior beginning with Gandara."

"Enki has rallied a defensive force by now, surely," Kurama said.

"Of course. But there's a growing concern that it won't be enough."

The sun steadily climbed into the sky and light washed over the yard, though the three of them remained in the shadow of the house. Kurama glanced up at the closed blinds in the window next to his, hoping his mother was still asleep. "And the kitsune following her?" he asked.

"Three in total," Ryouhi said. "We hadn't made any progress reclaiming the locations they were guarding until recently. The red fox stationed on the outskirts of Alaric abandoned his post not long ago, and hasn't returned."

"He's dead. What about the others?"

"We know there's a fox out in the Lost Country where the first reports of Tamamo-no-Mae emerged, and another hiding out with the criminal underbelly at the southern edge of Gandara."

Kurama nodded. "We'll leave now," he said. "I'm sure Hiei, Yusuke and Kuwabara are already making their way to Alaric and Tourin by now."

Ryouhi nodded and, with her message delivered, took off once again, disappearing into the distance. Sumire prodded Kurama's leg with a paw to get his attention, asking, "That was an agent of Spirit World, wasn't it?"

"Yes," he said, "it was."

"And you work with them? Don't you hate them?"

"Why would I hate them? You must've overhead what Akemori said. The situation is more complicated than that—!"

"But it's their fault the Hunts happened."

Kurama bristled at the words coming so casually from her mouth. "You shouldn't talk about things you don't fully understand."

"I understand," she said, sounding offended. "Everyone knows about the Hunts. My mother told me about them when I was young. We don't like Spirit World, either. Everything is their fault."

Kurama looked at her, biting down a lecture on the importance of Spirit World's influence on Demon World and the complicated balance of power when he realized she really meant it. Sumire stared at the horizon, watching Ryouhi disappear into the distance, eyes narrow and body rigid, not with fear but with hatred. He reasoned that the cats must feel similarly to Genkai; that they believed Spirit World was responsible for creating the monsters that they now fought, hundreds of years after the Hunts had ended. And though Kurama agreed, he knew they were not completely blameless.

The line between justified vengeance and unnecessary cruelty should have been clear, but he knew that none of them were able to tell the difference at the time.

* * *

Long ago, a golden fox kit came to the Garden of the Flowering Quince. She was small and skinny, a runt who hadn't eaten properly in a very long time, and she trembled when the elder kitsune came forward, eyes full of suspicion, sniffing the air around her.

"Enough," Shiragiku had said, pushing her way past the foxes and towering over them in her human form, a white robe flowing out behind her. "She is a fox, isn't she? What does it matter if she's from another Garden? We must look out for one another." She knelt then, opening her arms, and the little fox ran to her with tears in her eyes. Shiragiku spoke softly to soothe her, gently stroking her ears, and though the other foxes looked to one another in uncertainty, the matter had already been settled with Shiragiku's actions.

Kurama and the other kits were supposed to be sleeping, banished to their dens for the rest of the night by their parents as punishment for sneaking out, but they peered out curiously to see the cause of the commotion. Kurama heard one of the other elder foxes say to his mother, "Her scent is unmistakably that of the northern Gardens."

"That and cinders," Shiragiku said softly. "I suspect her Garden is no more."

"What do we do?" another fox asked nervously. "They'll come for us next. Our Garden is not as well hidden as the others. Many apparitions pass through the Forest of Divine Waters everyday; it's only a matter of time until we are discovered, and then where will we go?"

"We will stay," Shiragiku said firmly, "We have not been found yet; we are still safe here. But if the hunters come, we will remain while the kits flee." She looked down at the orphaned gold fox with grief in her eyes. "They are our future. Even if we fall, they must survive. We cannot let Enma succeed in destroying us all."

Though there was unanimous agreement, Kurama saw that the foxes were wary, that doubt had begun to set in, that they were fearful of what the future might bring.

And in time, their fears indeed came to pass.

* * *

They emerged somewhere in Demon World's countryside on a dirt road worn into the grass, naked trees lining the path, their spindly branches grasping at the sky. Kurama took a moment to inspect the variety of grasses beneath his feet, trying to determine their location. "Ah, good. This is Three King's Road," he said. "We're quite a ways east of Tourin. If we go a bit further, we should pass through the Lost Wood, and things should look a bit more familiar to you there. You'll have to guide us then."

He looked back when he didn't hear a reply and found Sumire shifted into her human form again wearing her pale blue jinbei, her clawed feet bare. "You keep calling it the Lost Country," she said. "I don't understand. You were born there, too, weren't you?"

"I was," Kurama said, and she trotted over to him, walking beside him as he started down the path. "But I haven't been back in quite some time. Truthfully, I don't remember the real names of many of those places."

"Then may I remind you?"

Kurama glanced at her, surprised at how quickly she'd warmed up to him when she'd been cowering at the sight of him the previous day. "If you want to."

Sumire nodded. "You're a strange fox," she said. "You aren't at all the way I was told you would be. I want to know more about you."

 _And you are a strange cat,_ Kurama thought, though he smiled a bit. "I'm a private person, Sumire. I don't like to talk about myself."

"That's alright," she said. "In Two-Tails Village, when everyone is together, we tell stories, and there are some who would rather listen than speak. But you can tell things by the way they listen, so even that can be enough to get to know someone."

"That's very perceptive of you," Kurama said, but Sumire shrugged.

"I think most cats are perceptive."

And so she told him stories as they journeyed along Three Kings Road, the forest thickening around them, villages appearing and disappearing over the hills. They passed other apparitions infrequently, once an old crone wearing a hooded cloak, though Kurama saw she had not one but three pairs of footprints that she left behind as they passed her, and later a pair of black-winged and sharp-beaked demons that leered at them menacingly but let them pass without a word.

Sumire chattered ceaselessly about the Lost Country—or the Safe Land, as she insisted he call it from now on—and all of its wonders. She told him of Bloodbark Forest, the site of the last battle between the old world apparitions and King Yama's forces, where so many fell that the land itself began to thirst for blood, and she told him of the Dragonlily Coast where sky serpents with scales that glittered like emeralds sometimes touched down to rest.

"Dragons?" Kurama mused. "I don't think I've seen one in quite some time."

"They live even deeper in the Safe Land than we do," Sumire said. "I saw them sometimes when I was young. My mother always told me to be very polite to them."

Three Kings Road suddenly forked into two distinct paths, one that led into the rocky land of Tourin, and the other further into the forest. "Does this look familiar yet?" Kurama asked. "I think we'll reach the Lost Wood if we keep going that way."

"The Forest of Divine Waters," Sumire corrected. "But yes, I recognize this. I came this way when Tamamo-no-Mae sent me to the Living World. I can find the way home from here." She glanced back at Kurama. "You're still in your human form." The comment struck him as odd, considering she, too, wore a human face now, but Kurama realized what she meant when she added, "Akemori said you were a silver fox. Do you not like the color of your fur?"

Kurama shook his head. "It's not that."

She stared up at him, looking expectant.

"I did mention that I dislike talking about myself," he said stiffly.

"I only ask," Sumire said, "because we have a long way to go. A human form is restrictive and will slow you down. If I run, will you be able to keep up with me?"

Kurama tried not to laugh but he couldn't keep the smile off of his face. "Ah. Don't worry, I'll manage."

She regarded him with suspicion but eventually nodded, and without another word, darted into the forest. He watched her go, chuckling at the excited swishing of her tails. There had been a playful edge to her voice when she asked if he could keep up, as though she wanted to make a game of it. Kurama remembered being told once by one of the old foxes in the Garden that cats were detestable because they never took anything seriously; he didn't think it was quite that simple, though there was a childlike simplicity to Sumire that made him see where one might come to such a conclusion. Cats, he thought, must have been able to find joy in even the smallest of things, and there was something refreshing about that, even if he couldn't relate.

The old forests of Demon World called to something primal within Kurama, something he'd vowed to bury and leave behind, and he found himself responding, touching his palms to mossy tree trunks he passed by and feeling the life pulsing through them. Lacking a demon's superior senses made it difficult to track Sumire's scent, but he could sense her energy easily enough, could feel it like a heartbeat with every step she took over the forest floor. Some part of him urged him to give chase, to give up his human guise and run freely through the trees, but he tried to focus instead on keeping up with the nekomata darting in and out of his vision up ahead.

Suddenly, she stopped, and Kurama jogged to where she was standing, growing concerned at her fearful, wide-eyed expression. Before he could ask what was wrong, she pointed wordlessly to the path ahead of them.

There were bones scattered among the roots of the trees. The cavernous skulls of kappa, the cracked horns of oni, the jagged, skeletal wings of tengu; many an apparition had met their end in the forest, and their remains were strung up from trees and half-buried in the ground. Kurama knelt to examine some creature's sternum and found teeth marks gouged into the side.

"They were eaten," he said, glancing back at Sumire whose gaze moved around the forest nervously. "I didn't realize there were still so many cannibals in the Safe Land."

"We are not cannibals," she said indignantly, her fear seemingly forgotten as she rounded on him. "We simply do what we must to survive, and sometimes, that means devouring the essence of other apparitions. But we understand that it shouldn't be a regular occurrence. It should only be in times of crisis, and it should be marked by celebration. It's a sacred thing."

Kurama's brows furrowed. "It's wrong, Sumire."

Sumire's ears flattened out and she narrowed her eyes. "It's not wrong. It's sacred. You should know." She glanced back down at the claw bones draped over a tree root warily. "But my people wouldn't do this. There are far too many bodies, and they've been scattered around like refuse. It's disrespectful."

"Or perhaps it's a way to mark territory."

Sumire tilted her head in confusion but just as Kurama opened his mouth to explain, she suddenly went rigid, her ears swiveling nervously as she listened to something. Kurama's ears picked it up a moment later; the soft chittering of lesser demons.

That was when something lunged out of the underbrush from behind, casting a large shadow over the both of them, and Sumire had barely cried out the word, "Spider!" before it struck.

Kurama leapt out of the way, feeling a claw soar just past his head, and heard Sumire's feet land somewhere further away. He turned to look at the beast that slowly rose to its full height, two of his six arms crossed over his chest. Even in a humanoid form he appeared grotesque, red hair long and unkempt, old blood smeared across his mouth as his gaze slid from Kurama to Sumire.

Kurama recognized the chittering now as that of demon spiders—it had grown unbearably loud as the things swarmed the forest floor like a wave, hooks on the ends of their spindly legs and their many glowing eyes leering up at him. He recognized the large apparition as a tsuchigumo, a cave-dwelling spider demon that retreated to the Safe Land shortly before the partitioning of Demon World. They were cannibalistic as part of their lifestyle as opposed to the occasional and ritualistic feasting that other demons performed, a crude beast even by the standards of the cats.

"What a nice smell," the tsuchigumo purred. "I wondered what had stumbled into my forest, and lo, it is a cat and a human together. How strange." He glanced at Kurama, blood-covered lips splitting into a wicked grin. "Was this human your prey, little cat? I'm sorry, but I intend to take him from you."

Sumire bristled at the beast's words long before he stopped speaking, and before Kurama could respond, she hissed, "This is not your forest, spider. It belongs to all of us."

"We're just passing through," Kurama added, though he watched the spiders surrounding them cautiously. "We have no business with you."

"You're traveling companions?" the tsuchigumo asked incredulously. "What a strange pair, though your intentions matter little to me." He uncrossed his arms and held up all six, exposing poison-tipped claws. "I never intended to let either of you leave, anyway."

He reached for Sumire first and she ducked, sliding beneath his legs across the forest floor to Kurama and glaring at the beast from behind him.

"Seems we'll have to fight our way through," Kurama said.

Sumire nodded.

"Are you afraid?"

"No," she said, though her smile was nervous. "He is no fox."

* * *

Kurama had forgotten what it meant to fight in the Safe Land.

The sun had long set and the battle had gone nowhere. Spider silk glistened in the low light of a pale, waxing moon, cutting off an escape through the trees. Demon spiders surged endlessly through the forest, and for each one that Sumire shredded with her claws and teeth, another three came to take its place, leaving bloody punctures in her legs. Kurama, too, was weary, his hold on the rose whip loosening as he struggled to stand upright.

The tsuchigumo drew closer again, lumbering slowly and ominously with its arms outstretched, and Kurama braced himself for it to lunge, his mind racing.

His options were limited. The fight had dragged on for too long and he knew he didn't have the energy to grow any plants that would stand a chance against the tsuchigumo. The demon had shrugged off everything Kurama had thrown at it without so much as flinching, snapping the rose whip like a twig and carelessly waving off flower petals enchanted to behave as razor blades. Sumire, too, was weary, panting as she struggled to keep her head above the swarm of spiders, prying their claws out of her flesh and tearing their legs from their bodies.

Kurama grit his teeth. This had to end. He refused to die here at the hands of a creature lesser than Tamamo-no-Mae. The forest was calling to him yet again, urging him to take the form of a fox, and he was beginning to think he might have to in order to survive.

A demon spider bit down on his leg and Kurama winced, moving to swat at it, and the tsuchigumo chose that moment strike. Kurama's breath caught in his throat as time seemed to slow and he realized what was about to happen.

He heard Sumire call his name. A brilliant blue light rose from the earth, circling Kurama. The tsuchigumo's claw made contact with the barrier and stopped in mid-air, and Kurama heard the spier's bones breaking as his face contorted in pain. Sumire was kneeling, pressing her hands to the ground and staring heatedly at the tsuchigumo, her body glowing and her hair standing on end, but Kurama could feel her energy rapidly draining.

"You," the tsuchigumo roared, and rounded on the nekomata, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Sumire, move," Kurama told her, panic gripping him when her eyelids fluttered and her body sank to the ground, the barrier dissipating in the air before his eyes. "Sumire!"

The tsuchigumo grasped her with four of his hands, lifting her weakly struggling body to his open mouth.

Something within Kurama woke from a long slumber.

The change from Shuichi Minamino to the silver kitsune Kurama was never a conscious decision, and this time was no different; he had been in Demon World long enough to feel the energy of his home wash over and seep into him, and the tipping point had been Sumire's distressed whimpering.

It was as if a weight had been drawn from his shoulders and a veil had been lifted from his eyes. His senses sharpened and his body felt lighter. He called out to the forest, and it heeded his cry, the thick limbs of a predatory demon trees circling around the tsuchigumo's arms until he relinquished his hold on Sumire, its barbed branches plunging into his skin to hold him still.

The demon craned his neck to look back at Kurama, his eyes widening in fear when he caught sight of the fox's hair glinting in the moonlight. "You are no human," he rasped fearfully.

Kurama held his arm out before him and twisting, thorny vines emerged from the ground. "You've angered me, spider," he said lowly. "I have more important things to be doing now, and you've cost me precious time."

He waves his hand and the vines snaked across the tsuchigumo's body alongside the branches, the thorns digging into his skin as they tightened around his throat and torso.

Kurama walked past the anxiously writhing demon, bending to help Sumire sit up and examine her injuries. He cast one final, cold lance back at the tsuchigumo. "But you are a simple beast, so I will be merciful. Your death will be quick."

He turned away, studying Sumire's pained expression, and listened as the tsuchigumo began to beg for his life as the vines and the tree limbs slowly began to pull in every direction. Blood spattered against Kurama's back, and the beast finally fell silent, his life energy dwindling to nothing.

"It's over," Kurama said, sighing in relief.

Sumire didn't relax, though. She went rigid in his arms, her eyes opening wide as she stared at him in fear. Kurama fought the irritation that surged through him—and something else that he wasn't sure of, but it hurt—when she twisted like an impatient cat to escape his arms and flopped to the forest floor, scrambling back to put some distance between them.

Kurama waited, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible while she slowly circled him, her nose twitching as she took in his new scent. He used the opportunity to observe her, as well, taking in the details he missed with his human body. Cats gave off a subdued and earthy smell, and though it lacked the flower-laced sweetness of another fox, it wasn't altogether unpleasant.

When she again stood before him, her face scrunched up in a frown and her ears folded anxiously, Kurama said, "I suppose we could do this all night, but wouldn't you rather we try to get a little closer to your village?"

Sumire didn't move. "We should find somewhere to sleep and keep traveling in the morning."

"Why?"

She broke his gaze, lowering her eyes as though embarrassed. Kurama smelled fresh blood oozing from an open gash and his eyes flicked down to the spider bites on her legs.

"You're injured," he said. "Let me treat your wounds."

Sumire retreated again from his reaching hands and Kurama took a deep breath, his patience nearly exhausted. He smiled lightly at the thought of a different approach. "You're right," he said, finding a tree to slouch against. "We're in no shape to travel now. It would be wise to rest while we can." The nekomata didn't respond, but Kurama could smell her fear lessening, her heartbeat gradually returning to an idle rhythm. "It's nice to be here again," he admitted. "Being in the forests of the Safe Land reminds me of my childhood." He made a show of stretching his sore limbs before he settled back against the tree again, exposing his throat in an attempt to show vulnerability and trust. He tried not to let his smile show when she crept a little closer.

"What was it like when you were growing up?" she asked, curiosity seeping into her words. "The older cats told me things were very different when there were foxes."

"I have a few stories, if you'd like to hear them," Kurama offered.

The invitation had Sumire scampering over, limping slightly. She knelt to sit in the grass, and though she remained just out of arm's reach, Kurama was satisfied that she could at least come that close.

As he began to speak, Sumire relaxed further. He realized she'd fallen asleep when her eyes finally fluttered shut a final time and she slumped forward, and he gathered her in his arms to get a better look at her injuries. When he stopped talking, she mewled in displeasure in her sleep, so he continued with the story, chuckling to himself when she settled again.

Kurama found cats to be rather strange creatures, but he thought they—or at least one in particular—were starting to grow on him.


	8. Chronicles of the Hunt

It began long ago, before Kurama's birth, before the partitioning of Demon World, before even the records stored away within Spirit World's great vaults. It began in the primordial world that the apparitions called home in a time where there was no authority but their own, for in those days, King Yama could govern only that which died, and the strongest of apparitions were eternal creatures. There, in a time before written history, there were great and terrible monsters, dragons the size of mountains, serpents with eight heads and scales like armor, tengu that conjured hurricanes with a flick of their wrists. And there were foxes, of course, for there have always been foxes, and though not as majestic as the dragon nor as knowledgeable as the tengu, they were powerful in their own right.

When King Yama came to Demon World the first time, seeking to govern its people, the apparitions laughed at him, "Foolish king! We need no ruler, certainly not one as weak as you." It was said—whispered, for most feared that he may overhear—that King Yama was defeated and driven out by the lords of the land, immortal demons that feared nothing and wielded power beyond that which even Spirit World's mighty king had in that time. So King Yama returned home but he did not set aside his ambitions to conquer Demon World; he knew he'd simply have to be patient.

And, in time, he was rewarded for this patience. There were humans who had begun to create societies and cultures in Living World, and this made the apparitions curious. With this curiosity came a change, as the denizens of Demon World discovered they were not alone in creation, that other spheres of existence lay right beside them if only they knew where to look. This brought them joy, though it only caused the humans trouble.

The humans cried out to King Yama, "We are suffering, and you must help us! There are monsters that devour our livestock and our children, that lay curses and cause calamities, and we can do nothing to stop them."

King Yama heard their pleas, and it is said that this is why the first barrier was erected between worlds. It was a primitive, flimsy thing, and demons were always finding ways around it—the foxes, especially—but King Yama had nothing but time to perfect it, and eventually, the worlds were neatly divided and separate from one another.

It was during this power struggle that Kurama's mother, Shiragiku, was born beneath a chrysanthemum, and she, like all foxes born in this time, cared for nothing but to live as she pleased, going where she liked, taking what she wanted, and doing what she wished. It may be this very pride that caused the downfall of the kitsune, though Shiragiku told her son that it was not solely their fault.

"If we had simply been proud," she'd said, "Then nothing would have changed."

It was something else that turned envy into hatred, many somethings that King Yama manipulated to his advantage. Even as the tengu slipped away into the mountains of Living World, becoming deities and teachers, and dragons slowly vanished, as often do things which exist for so long, wearing away with time, the kitsune remained.

Shiragiku, like many other apparitions, longed to cross the barrier and return to the Living World for her own amusement, and, tired of King Yama's constant presence in her homeland, she went to speak with him accompanied by demons who agreed with her.

"We wish to pass freely to and from Living World," she said to him, and King Yama raised a brow as he looked down at her.

"I have placed a barrier to separate the worlds for a reason," he said. "The kitsune do nothing but wreak havoc upon the Living World, and the lot of you are being punished for the behavior of these few."

Shiragiku and the foxes left disappointed, knowing he cared little about the humans and simply wished to control Demon World however he could, but the other apparitions who had gone with her pondered his words and allowed themselves to be deceived to satisfy their own selfishness.

"It is because of the foxes that we are all being punished," the other demons began to say to one another. "It is their fault that we can no longer go where we please." Idle chatter became whispered conspiracies, and soon the kitsune found their former friends turning their backs on them. It took several years for the grudges of the other apparitions to harden into resolve, for Spirit World propaganda delivered by its king's emissaries to be accepted, but in time, the tide turned.

Kurama did not know his mother's dying words, but he could remember the hope in her eyes when he was forced to flee the burning Garden that had been his home, and he remembered wondering how she could have any left.

* * *

When he was young—not so young that he was a small kit any longer, but still young, still arrogant—Kurama had nightmares of Spirit Fire. It raced across the dreamscapes of his mind and consumed everything it touched, leaving nothing but blackened earth in its wake. He would wake up gasping and covered in a cold sweat, but the others would be beside him, and they would look at him with sympathy and sit by his side until the shaking stopped. They all had the same dreams, after all.

Osunoro was the oldest, a calico with patches of black and brown who always woke at the first hints of sunlight over the horizon. "If we leave within the hour," he said, watching the sky, "then we'll make it to Akizu by noon."

The divisions of land made by the Three Kings had not yet come into being, but in the land that would one day be called Gandara, there was a bustling village known for its taverns and criminal underworld called Akizu. It was a place that drew scoundrels and thieves where some came to hide and others to find work. Kurama and the other foxes were neither, but their reasons for going were not dissimilar.

They sat in a circle around a dying campfire that did little more than crackle and spit smoke, though they still saw through the darkness of the cave with their golden eyes. "What will you do," Akemori asked, "when all of this is over?"

Kurama shook his head. "I don't know."

"I'm going north," the red fox said confidently. "I've heard it was nearly untouched by the Hunt hysteria. I bet we could live pretty well there."

"I'm staying," Sagiso said quietly across from him, a black fox who looked at the ground as he spoke. "It doesn't feel right to go so far from the Garden. Someday, I'm going to go back there when I have my own family."

"With whom will you have a family?" Akemori scoffed. "There're hardly any of us left."

"It doesn't have to be another fox," Sagiso said wistfully, but Akemori shook his head.

"What are you talking about? Of course it does. Why would you want anything to do with other apparitions? They turned on us. It's all their fault we're alone now."

The black fox shrugged helplessly, and no one, not even Kurama came to his defense. At that time, he was of the same opinion as the others. Eventually, Sagiso nodded, muttering an agreement.

"I'm eager to see what's in Akizu," Osunoro said. "I might end up staying, making a new life there."

"It's the capital of liars and thieves," Sagiso pointed out.

"Our options are limited. We can't afford to be picky."

"What about you, Zenmai?" Akemori asked, turning to the last fox in the cave, her golden ears twitching in surprise.

"Me?" she asked. "I don't know yet, either."

"You and Kurama both need keepers," Akemori said, rolling his eyes. "You're going to get yourselves into trouble, I can just tell."

"They'll be fine," Osunoro told him. "They'll stick together, and they'll be okay."

Zenmai blushed a bit, but Kurama only chuckled. "Indeed, we will," he said, and smiled at the golden fox, who returned it shyly.

They sat in silence then, listening to the first chirps of birds waking in the morning sun. "This is it," Osunoro said softly. "The Hunters have all gathered in Akizu to celebrate. We'll disguise ourselves as oni and stay until dark, when they're all drunk or sleeping. And then…." His eyes narrowed. "We kill every one we find."

* * *

Fox Hunters were recruited from the ranks of Demon World's strongest, apparitions who were incited into violence through King Yama's deception and their own short-sightedness. Their ranks were filled with large, strong youkai, bear and tiger spirits, old and grizzled oni, and creatures like the tsuchigumo who cared nothing for the reasons of the Hunt but only for the sport and the kill. It was quick but it was cruel, as the Hunt descended upon Fox Gardens throughout Demon World, setting the trees ablaze with Spirit Fire and killing anything that ran. The Garden of the Flowering Quince, however, was not so easy to take, guarded by an old camellia tree that had been there for the birth of the first fox. With her branches unfurled, she brought the forest alive and fought them with every ounce of her strength, and the foxes of the Garden, too, left to help her.

It was then that the young kits were quietly led away by Osunoro, hiding in hollow tree trunks and burrows in the Forest of Divine Waters when more Hunters ran by. From these places, they looked out with frightened eyes and watched their home begin to burn, watched their parents and their grandparents die, watched blood stain the grass and the Hunters laugh as they skinned the foxes that fell.

Many years later, when the Hunters met again to reminisce and share tales of what their wealth had brought them, drowning their guilt with cheap spirits, they came face to face with the foxes that had slipped through their fingers, and suddenly became prey themselves.

* * *

Kurama feared it would never end.

There were Hunters who escaped from the tavern in Akizu and more still that they came across as they chased the survivors. Rumors of fearsome demons who flaunted their fox pelt trophies sprang up wherever they went, and there wasn't a quiet moment for years as they sought their vengeance.

Osunoro grew weary as the years dragged on, his bloodlust subsiding and his rage turning to grief. He tried to fill the void with wealth, becoming a bandit in order to feed the younger foxes, but he was never content. Kurama couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him smile. Akemori had only become more settled in his prejudice against other apparitions, belittling the tanuki that served them at taverns or the oni merchants they crossed paths with. When it came to cats, he was needlessly cruel, stepping on their tails and glaring them down when they turned to berate him for it, daring them to make the first move.

"You shouldn't do that," Kurama told him, causing Akemori to bare his fangs in anger.

"Then should I be kind to them?" he growled. "Surely, you remember the cause of all of this, the reason we are orphans." And Kurama had agreed with him then, but it still bothered him to lash out at apparitions that hadn't wronged them.

Sagiso, always the soft-spoken and optimistic one among them, had grown cynical and reclusive, distrustful of everyone they came across. "It doesn't matter if they're not hunting us now," he muttered. "They'll turn on us someday."

But the one who had changed the most was Zenmai. Kurama had feared that the timid fox from another Garden wouldn't make it through the Hunts, her heart too soft to handle the weight of what they needed to do. But she'd gotten stronger, no longer weeping in the night or clinging to Kurama as they confronted a Hunter, and this strength hadn't warped her like it had Akemori or Sagiso.

Or so he believed then.

"Let's rest tomorrow," she'd say, and Osunoro would agree because he was tired of being in charge. Gradually, Zenmai and Kurama came to be the leaders of their skulk, a role they easily adapted to as the youngest and best adjusted. Perhaps, then, it was only natural that they would find comfort in one another and develop feelings that went beyond camaraderie and friendship.

At night, when they rented rooms at a luxury inn in Akizu, they stayed apart from the others and talked about the future.

"What did you dream of being, before any of this?" Kurama asked, lying on his side behind her, one clawed hand trailing through her long hair.

"They were foolish dreams," Zenmai said softly. "I was only a child, after all."

"We were all children then," Kurama chuckled. "I dreamed of being the king of thieves."

"Did you?" She rolled onto her back, smiling at him. "I think that suits you, actually. I can see you in gilded robes, lounging on a pile of gold. It would match your eyes."

"Or your fur," Kurama said playfully, caressing her tail. Zenmai swatted his hand away and slowly sat up, her robes slipping off of her shoulder. She reached for it self-consciously, but Kurama caught her wrist, watching it slowly fall away. She shivered as the cool air hit her skin, blushing lightly when Kurama rolled on top of her, forearms on either side of her head as he smiled down at her affectionately. "That lot Osunoro fell in with doesn't seem too bright," he said. "Tanuki and kappa, mostly, but they take orders well. I lead the heist today and things went smoothly."

"Oh, so this isn't merely a childhood fantasy?" Zenmai teased. "You really intend to become a thief?"

"The king of thieves," he corrected.

"I wanted to go to the Living World," she said softly.

Kurama was taken aback, staring down at her in surprise. "The Living World?" he echoed. "Why?"

"In my Garden, there was a white fox, Kuzunoha, who always told us stories about it," she explained. "She said that humans are short-lived but endlessly entertaining. They can have any temperament at all; hateful like onryou, covetous like jorogumo, playful like tanuki." Zenmai's gaze grew distant. "And Kuzunoha, who enjoyed the company of humans, grew to love one so much that she decided to stay in the Living World and have a family with him."

Kurama frowned. "I don't understand. Are you dissatisfied with what you have here?"

 _With me?_

She reached up, cupping his face with one hand, and Kurama leaned into the touch. "I love you, Kurama," she said. "But I hate this world. You want kits, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"What would happen if we had them?" she presses. "Could we teach them that they have nothing to fear? Could we teach them to love and trust their fellow apparitions?"

"We will raise them to be cautious, as we were," Kurama said.

She shook her head. "I don't want to live like that. Won't you think about it, at least?" Her hands smoothed down his face and over his chest, pulling his robe off of his body.

Kurama leaned in to nuzzle his face into her neck, biting playfully and relishing in the gasp of breath she took. "Our home is here, Zenmai," he said. "I'd rather we stay and become strong enough to protect it than flee. You trust in my power, don't you? You trust in your own?"

"We are strong," she sighed softly. "But we are not strong enough to fight the world."

The words echoed in Kurama's mind from the past, from what felt like a lifetime ago in the peaceful Garden he was born in, and nearly brought tears to his eyes. Weren't they? After everything they'd been through and all of the Hunters they'd killed, weren't they strong enough to tear down any wall that stood in their way?

If not, then what would it take?

* * *

It was Zenmai who began to eat first.

They had all whispered of it at night by the fire, all considered it when they spoke of vengeance, but it was Zenmai who knelt in the puddles of blood on the tavern floor and began to eat as though starving, tearing the limbs off of the Hunters, plucking out their eyes and swallowing them whole. She moved as though possessed, and at first the others were afraid of her, standing back and simply watching, but she stopped to speak to them.

"What are you afraid of?" she asked. "Why do you stand so far away? Is this not what we've waited for? Is this not what we've longed for since we were small kits?" Her eyes were wild, her lips were smeared with blood. "I've lost my home twice to these monsters. I've lost the mother who gave birth to me, and the one who took me in. I will not suffer again."

"But that's…" Sagiso stammered, "that's not allowed."

She lurched forward on all fours though she was still in human form, hissing, "According to who? That is the law of Spirit World and the wicked king who started this, who rewarded Hunters for bringing him our pelts. Do you follow his law?"

The kitsune looked to one another helplessly.

"Eat," she spoke, kneeling in the filth of her kill. "Eat, and you will be strong."

And though the others were frightened and reluctant, Kurama came forward and knelt beside her, his desperation greater than his fear. It took time to grow accustomed to the taste of another demon, but soon, he realized just how hungry he was. He ate, and ate, and ate, and just as Zenmai said, he was afraid no longer.

"Come," he told the others, beckoning with one hand. "Isn't this what you waited for?"

And whether it was or not didn't matter, because Kurama and Zenmai were the strongest of the skulk, and the others had no choice but to fall in line with their orders. From then on, they did not simply seek to hunt but to obliterate, to strike the names of their enemies from the annals of history and erase their deeds, devouring them body and soul, leaving nothing behind. That was the path Kurama had walked, following Zenmai's lead in pursuit of both power and happiness, and only when he realized that he truly had neither did he stop to look back at all the blood he left behind.

* * *

Sumire demanded he tell the story again from the beginning when she woke, and Kurama spent much of the remaining journey to Two-Tails Village repeating it. At the end, he found her eyebrows knitted together and her eyes shining with sympathy. "And then?" she pressed.

"Zenmai and I grew apart after that," he said. "We had many disagreements and eventually decided to go our separate ways. I didn't see her again for centuries, but I heard whispers that she'd made it to the Living World like she always dreamed she would." He frowned deeply. "She goes by Tamamo-no-Mae now."

"Wait, but," Sumire stammered, "what else happened? There's more to your story, isn't there? There must be! What about the other foxes?"

"That's all I wish to say for now."

Sumire frowned in displeasure but respected his wishes, mulling over what he'd told her silently for a time. "You've changed since your youth," she told him.

Kurama chuckled bitterly. "So has Zenmai."

"But you've changed for the better," she insisted. "You're kind to me, even though you used to dislike other apparitions. You tried to reason with Akemori, even though he came to take your life. You're like the white fox Zenmai talked about, whose love for humans made her gentle."

"There's a legend in the Living World that Kuzunoha bore a son from her human lover," Kurama said. "I heard it much later, as a young boy when I became human, and I was surprised to hear her name again. I still don't know if it's true or not."

"It's nice to believe that it is," Sumire said quietly. "If one believes that story, then they must know that there is more to foxes than what the rumors say."

Kurama's gaze softened as he looked at the road ahead. "My mother," he began, then feels he should clarify, "my kitsune mother once told me I should treat every apparition I meet with dignity and compassion. I fear she'd be disappointed if she knew how I turned out."

"No," Sumire said firmly. "She would be proud of how far you've come."

"You think so?"

"I know it." She smiled. "We cats are very perceptive creatures. You'll just have to take my word for it."

Despite everything—the past looming once again over his shoulders, the threat of complete upheaval in the three worlds, Zenmai somewhere wishing his death—Kurama found himself laughing.

"I'm serious," Sumire said, sounding truly offended.

"I know," he said, ruffling her hair between her ears. "I believe you."

She gave a frustrated mewl and batted at his hand, though her claws simply grazed his skin in a playful manner and she was struggling to hide a smile.

He thought, just briefly, that he might have caught a glimpse of the world his mother saw, the one that still gave her reason to hope for the future.


	9. The Generous Fox

Beneath an evening sky alight with sunset, Sumire returned to Two-Tails Village with her head held high.

Everything was just as she remembered it. The dirt streets, worn into the forest by all of the cats who came before her, were narrow and lined with fishmonger stands and carts loaded with fine silk and brocade. A pair of bakeneko children scampered past her, giggling and batting at one another with their paws, stumbling as they tried to run upright, and an old, graying nekomata with a wooden cane walked past her, cat ears sticking up out of her hood. Sumire just wanted to relax, her homesickness slowly ebbing away as she set foot on familiar ground once again, but she knew she couldn't. She saw the worry on the elders' faces and felt tension in the air; she knew a fox was somewhere.

"Hey!" cried a little nekomata that pawed at her calf. "Why are you walking around with a human face?"

"I just came back from Living World," Sumrie explained, and the cat's eyes widened.

"Really? You went there? What did you do? Did you eat anything tasty? What are humans like?"

"Sumire!" she heard a frantic cry that cut off the little cat's questioning. "Sumire, is that you?"

Her mother and father hurried down the road, bending to run on all fours in their panic. Her mother reached her first, rising to stand on her hind legs, though Sumire still dwarfed her in human form. She wrinkled her nose when her mother leaned in to sniff her, rubbing her furry cheek against Sumire's side before she pulled back, tears welling up in her eyes. "It's you. You've come home."

"Mother," Sumire said softly, and sunk to her knees to wrap her arms around her. "I missed you."

"What of the kitsune?" her mother whispered. "Tamamo-no-Mae has moved on, but she left another fox here. He will want to hear—!"

Her mother suddenly stopped speaking, ears flat against the sides of her head as her shoulders stiffened, and Sumire stood to her full height when she saw another human figure approach from behind a hut. The stranger was taller still, looking down at Sumire with glittering amber eyes, a dark haori coat over a delicately embroidered navy blue kosode and hakama.

Two black, angular fox ears rested upon his head.

"So you're the one," he said, his voice softer than she imagined it would be, "who was sent to the Living World."

She swallowed her nervousness and nodded.

He came forward, looking down at her with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Then you must have something to tell me?"

Sumire held her ground. "Yes," she said fearlessly, holding his gaze. "Kurama is dead."

She heard her mother gasp behind her. The villagers were beginning to gather, some of the elders who recognized her stopping in their tracks and watching in apprehension.

"Oh?" the kitsune said, and to her surprise, he didn't sound particularly excited about it one way or the other. "I see. You must be tired and hungry." He gestured behind them at a tavern. "Want something? I'll treat you."

Sumire stared at him, shocked by his nonchalance, but managed a nod and fell into step with him.

"You don't have to walk so far away," he commented, and she glanced at the space between them self-consciously, "Do I really seem that frightening?" He didn't give her quite enough time to answer. "I suppose I am a fox, and you've been taught your whole life to fear and hate me." He paused in the open doorway of the tavern, pulling the curtain hanging in the doorway aside, and glanced back at her. "But don't you think we should give ourselves a fair chance and get to know one another?"

Sumire looked back and saw her mother and father watching her nervously, afraid they might lose her when she'd finally come back to them, and she tried to smile and reassure them that she'd be alright. She didn't know what to make of this kitsune yet, but she didn't intend to lose her life after she'd come so far. "You're right," she said, "I would rather we do that, as well." She bowed respectfully. "I am Sumire."

The black fox gave her a small but charming smile that made her heart beat faster. He bowed his head in turn. "I am Sagiso."

* * *

Kurama had told her that she should behave as though he was dead.

"This will be our best chance to learn what Tamamo-no-Mae is planning," he said. "We know she left one of her followers in Gandara and another in the Safe Land. It's likely that the latter is staying in your village to keep the surrounding area out of Spirit World's hands." His gaze grew distant. "And between the two foxes who remain, I believe I know which one awaits us there. He held the least hatred for other apparitions in his heart."

"Is it one of the foxes from your story?" Sumire asked curiously.

"Yes. You remember Sagiso? He was much more level-headed and cautious than the others, very observant. I'd rather not fight him, but if I must, I would like to have the element of surprise."

"You say he's observant and cautious. How do you know he'll believe me if I say you're dead?"

"Tell him Akemori came between us, overcome by his grudge against me," Kurama said. "That we fought to the death, and that you feasted upon our remains."

Sumire had frowned. "And he won't know I'm lying?"

Kurama chuckled bitterly. "It's very nearly the truth, isn't it?"

* * *

"Kurama and Akemori are both dead, then?" Sagiso mused as he tilted the udon bowl to drink the cloudy broth left at the bottom. "A shame. I'd hoped we could meet just once more, all five of us, for old times' sake. Seems it wasn't to be."

Sumire couldn't even touch her food, appetite ruined by nervousness, and stirred the noodles in her bowl self-consciously when she felt Sagiso's eyes on her.

"Tamamo-no-Mae will want to know all of this," he said mildly, "but that can wait." He offered a gentle smile. "You can relax now. You've earned yourself reprieve."

"Ah," Sumire murmured, looking away when her face heated up.

"You have questions," the kitsune said, watching attentively as she tried to take a bite of her food. "Please, ask. I'll answer the best I can."

"Well," Sumire paused, thinking carefully, "what are you allowed to tell me?"

"Anything you want to know," Sagiso assured her. "Surely you're curious as to what Tamamo-no-Mae's intentions are? Or maybe you wish to know how the village has been in your absence?"

She bit her lip nervously. "You're...nicer than I thought you'd be."

Sumire worried briefly that she'd overstepped the bounds of polite conversation and offended him but Sagiso hunched over the restaurant counter and laughed. "I suppose I must be," he said, smiling warmly. "I'm sorry, this isn't something to laugh about. I can tell you're still wary of me, and I don't blame you. But you don't have to worry. Two-Tails Village is under my protection now."

"Protection?" Sumire repeated.

Sagiso nodded. "Spirit World has been intruding further into Demon World," he said. "Tamamo-no-Mae is busy elsewhere in the Safe Land, and I feared King Yama's armies might consider invading in her absence, so I've chosen to stay behind."

"I didn't think she cared what happened to us."

"I'm not going to lie to you," he said quietly. "This village matters very little to her. But it means a lot to me."

"Why?"

He seemed to be sitting closer suddenly, their clothed legs pressing against each other as Sagiso smiled at her. "Some of us have outgrown our anger over the centuries," he said simply.

True to his word, Sagiso indulged her with whatever answers she sought, explaining that her departure had led to a renewed hatred of Spirit World in the village and that a handful of young cats had left for the edge of Demon World, intending to storm the imperial palace. Sumire recognized all of their names; bakeneko and nekomata she had grown up with, other frightened faces lined up beside her on the night Tamamo-no-Mae arrived in the village. "They were slaughtered," the fox said solemnly. "There's been great unrest since."

She fought back tears, clutching at her robes bunched up in her lap. "And Tamamo-no-Mae?" she asked. "What does she intend to do now?"

"She's preparing an attack on Demon World beyond the Safe Land. Gandara will fall first, and then she'll move on to Alaric and Tourin. She hopes to convince King Enki to join her cause, but if he can't be persuaded, she's prepared to strike him down."

Sumire blanched at how casually Sagiso spoke of the golden fox claiming entire countries.

"But there's nothing for you to worry about," he assured her. "Osunoro and I have recruited a fighting a force among the denizens of the Safe Land. There's no need for you to put yourself in harm's way. You can remain here with your family." He smiled brightly. "Someday, there will be no imaginary line dividing new and old Demon World, nor even Spirit World or Living World. It will all belong to us. You've hardly seen what's beyond the Safe Land. There are so many places I'd love to show you." He stopped, a light blush dusting his cheeks. "Only if you'd like to go, of course."

Sumire, too, could feel her face reddening, her stomach fluttering with a pleasant nervousness. "Maybe," she said noncommittally, but it still made the fox's smile widen.

As promised, Sagiso paid for both of their meals, waving down the trembling kitchen staff. "You probably want to see your family," he said. "But could I convince you to walk with me for a bit? I want to talk without the entire village listening."

Sumire's ears swiveled nervously and she wondered if he somehow knew what she was planning. What could he want to talk about privately? Still, she nodded, hopeful that Kurama would keep his word and intervene at the first sign of trouble.

He led her to the edge of the village, starting down a path that lead into the Forest of Divine Waters, walking slowly enough that she didn't have to hurry to keep up with his long strides. "It must have be difficult for you," he said. "Being forced to obey the whims of creatures you've been taught to fear. I'm sorry you had to go through all of this."

"It hasn't been easy," Sumire admitted. "I worry about the future. Tamamo-no-Mae seeks vengeance, and perhaps she deserves it, but I'm afraid she'll trample us beneath her feet on her way to obtain it."

Sagiso stopped walking, turning to face her. "Not just her," he murmured. "All foxes deserve vengeance."

Sumire swallowed nervously, craning her neck when he came to stand directly in front of her. The forest was silent, not even a stray breeze daring to blow through the kitsune's territory, and the silence made her heartbeat sound even louder to her own ears.

"But it's a vengeance that belongs to you, too," he said, clawed hands coming to rest on her shoulders. "We apparitions of the old world were all wronged by Spirit World in its quest for power, and we will all reap the benefits of the revolution. You have no reason to fear Tamamo-no-Mae, Sumire; there's a place for you in the world she will create."

When he pulled away, turning to walk deeper into the woods, Sumire suddenly realized just how hot her face was and touched her hands to her cheeks self-consciously. She hurried to catch up to Sagiso who kept a casual pace as he smiled fondly up at old, flowering trees. He stopped beneath a towering demon maple tree, leaning back against the bark and folding his arms over his chest, hands resting in the sleeves of his robes.

"There's a place for all of us," he went on. "Even Kurama, if he would only accept it."

Sumire froze. "What...what do you mean?" she asked, struggling to keep a nervous quiver out of her voice.

The black fox chuckled. "It's alright," he said, "you don't have to lie anymore. I know he's still alive."

"He isn't."

"Sumire," he said sharply, and she flinched at his tone, shrinking back from his snarl and wide eyes. Sagiso composed himself, smile returning to his face. "I can smell him. He's rubbed fragrant demon leaves on his skin to disguise his scent, but it's still unmistakable so close." His eyes flicked to a spot deeper in the woods. "You hoped to catch me by surprise, didn't you?"

Sumire stepped back from Sagiso nervously as she caught a glimpse of Kurama's silver hair before he emerged from behind one of the trees. The foxes stared each other down in silence for a time before Kurama opened his mouth to speak, but Sagiso interrupted him.

"It's good to see you again," he said, his gaze softening. "It's been some time since I've seen another fox." He gestured back towards the village. "Have you eaten yet? The cats make the best grilled fish I've ever had."

Sumire could see the hesitation and disbelief on Kurama's face.

"You expected a fight, didn't you?" Sagiso asked. "I bet Akemori really is dead. It's terrible that we fought for so long to survive and now we're killing each other."

Kurama stood his ground. "Hasn't Tamamo-no-Mae ordered my death?"

"She has. But I hope to change her mind." Sagiso stepped forward from the tree, pulling his hands from his sleeves. "Please, Kurama, let's talk," he pleaded. "There must be a way solve this without violence. I believe she can be reasoned with."

"I doubt that," Kurama said, though he managed a smile. "But it will be nice to talk for once."

* * *

Kurama had seen the village from a distance but seeing it up close was completely different.

It was livelier than he expected, and despite the obvious nervousness of the cats who peered out of their windows and scurried out of his path as he walked, there was an air of celebration and optimism. A merchant with striped fur offered him free dumplings, explaining that he'd come just in time for the Shining Festival. He'd been hesitant to accept the food, but Sagiso had insisted he accept their hospitality.

"There's still a bit of wariness," he said as he took a couple dumplings, offering one to Sumire who took it reluctantly. "And that's understandable. But I think they've begun warming up to me."

He lead them to one of the squat straw-covered huts and knocks on the door.

A black-furred nekomata answered, his gaze hardening. "You've brought my daughter home?" he asked gruffly.

Sagiso smiled in a reassuring manner and stepped aside so he could see Sumire behind him. Kurama watched the old nekomata's expression carefully as his gaze softened into both relief and resignation.

"Come in," he said, "and welcome home, Sagiso." He turned his back on them and disappeared into the house. Sumire scurried inside first, followed closely by the kitsune who had to bend slightly to fit inside the doorway.

"Are you staying with my family?" Sumire asked curiously.

"Ah, yes." Sagiso gave a sheepish smile as though embarrassed. "They've been very kind to me. Chiri reminds me of my own mother in some ways." He glanced over in the direction Sumire's father had gone. "You're more than welcome to talk with us, if you'd like, but I'm sure your parents would like to see you."

Sumire nodded, shrinking down into the form of a cat and padding away. Kurama heard heartfelt meowing through the wall and hushed voices, a feminine voice nearly in tears that whispered, "Please don't ever leave home again," and he felt relieved somehow.

"So," Sagiso began uneasily, "we have much to discuss."

"We do," Kurama nodded.

"Let's sit." He opened one of the sliding doors and led Kurama into the next room where a table and cushions were laid out. They settled across from each other at the table and sat in silence for a minute. "Where to start?" Sagiso muttered, shaking his head with quiet laughter. "So much has happened."

"Start at the beginning," Kurama urged. "Tell me what's happened since I saw you last."

"That was hundreds of years ago," the black fox laughed. "Wouldn't you be bored by a story that long?"

"No. I want to know what happened in my absence." Kurama lowered his gaze. "I want to know how it came to this."

Sagiso frowned. "You were there for that, Kurama. You remember the end of the Hunts, the things we did for revenge."

"Revenge is one thing," Kurama said, shaking his head. "This is another altogether. They know Tamamo-no-Mae's name even in the Living World. Her slaughter of everyone she met after fleeing the palace has cemented itself in common folklore."

"She would be glad to hear that, I'm afraid." Sagiso sighed heavily. "I'm afraid I don't understand any better than you. We didn't go with her to the Living World and she talks very little about what happened there. We only found out what she'd done second-hand from other demons who had seen her rampage. When she resurfaced in Demon World again, she was completely different."

Kurama's brows furrowed. "Something happened to her in Living World?"

"It must have," Sagiso murmured. "The first thing she told us was she never wanted to be called Zenmai again. She wore the same human face she'd had while living at the emperor's palace all the time, even around us." He averted his gaze. "She used to be so passionate. She was merciless, yes, and she believed there was no reasoning with her enemies, but she loved Demon World. She just wanted to have a home again. Now I worry she's lost sight of that."

"Excuse me?" they heard just before the sliding door opened and Sumire's human face peered through at them. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I'm going to catch some fish for the festival tomorrow night." She blushes a bit. "My parents said you might want to come along, Sagiso. And you can come, too, Kurama."

Sagiso's solemn expression melted into a tranquil smile. "That would be wonderful, thank you." He glanced at Kurama. "Would you like to join us?"

For just a moment, Kurama caught himself thinking that something wasn't right. He went back through his memories of the day, looking desperately for a warning of some kind, evidence that there was a trap waiting to be sprung, that Sagiso was leading them both along, and he felt guilty when he realized he was doing it.

"Couldn't this just be the truth?" Kurama thought. "Couldn't it be that Sagiso has found a home among the cats, that he truly believes Tamamo-no-Mae can be talked into giving up her crusade? That Sumire…."

He didn't know why he was thinking of Sumire. She stood timidly in the doorway, tail curled around one leg shyly, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. She wasn't even looking at him. Sagiso looked back at her with something in his eyes that startled Kurama and made him feel uncomfortable somehow.

There was nothing wrong with this, was there?

He forced a smile. "Yes," he said, "I would love to."

He followed Sagiso and Sumire back to the forest again, watching them walk a few paces ahead. Sagiso's hand ghosted at her waist, hesitantly settling there when she jumped but didn't pull away. Kurama found himself thinking, for the first time in quite a while, about lying in bed beside a golden fox with dreams of having a family of his own.

Why had he spoken with such disdain for the Living World? If he'd gone along with her, would he have been able to prevent whatever happened?

He looked at Sumire and began considering his regrets.


End file.
